Resolutions
by RenRenegade
Summary: One moment in time can rewrite the history of the 100; one moment can change their lives forever. Bellamy tried to warn Clarke of the darkness growing in Finn's heart, but could it be too late to save the man that she used to love from destroying everything that the 100 had built? Set during S2E5. Slow burn. Rated M for violence, adult language, and adult situations.
1. Chapter 1-Unknown

**A/N: Hi Everyone. This is my first posted story. I would ask for you to break it in slowly, but I know that with this story that won't be likely. As a warning, the story will have violence, adult language, and adult themes. Later chapters will feature lemony goodness sprinkled throughout the chapters.**

**Disclaimer: I sadly do not own the rights to the 100 or the characters. I also do not own any lyrics that are posted. Additionally, this story does have spoilers from season 2.**

**Summary: Bellamy, Clarke, and Octavia are on their way to the grounder village to rescue Finn and Murphy. Bellamy tried to warn Clarke, but could it be too late? Set during and after episode S2E5. Violence, adult language, and adult themes.**

Mumford and Sons- I Gave You All

How can you say that your truth is better than ours?  
Shoulder to shoulder, now brother, we carry no arms  
The blind man sleeps in the doorway, his home  
If only I had an enemy bigger than my apathy I could have won

Resolutions- Chapter 1- Unknown

Octavia led the two leaders through the forest. The urgency of finding Finn and Murphy before it was too late was pressing down on the group. They continued to stomp through the wet dirt. The sloshing of their feet in the mud and breathless pants were the only noises that could be heard from the survivors.

Bellamy could feel the tension in the air. He gazed left and right before settling on the path they were taking.

As they exited into a small clearing, Octavia stopped suddenly. Clarke and Bellamy's eyes widened as they took in the large statue of the man sitting down. Bellamy turned to Octavia.

"This is it. Which way to the village, O?" Bellamy questioned impatiently. He watched her freeze. The blood slowly drained from her face. Her face contorted in pain. "Octavia, what's wrong?"

"The reapers came from there." Her voice broke off, "I couldn't save him Bel. I couldn't save him."

Bellamy watched as Octavia broke down, her body crumpling before him. She was trying to contain her pain over Lincoln going missing, but it finally had caught up to her. Bellamy stepped forward to his little sister. He grasped her neck and pulled her to him.

"It's okay." He murmured. "It will be okay." Octavia sobbed quietly against Bellamy. Her sadness had been building up throughout the trip from the Ark. Seeing Lincoln's village, finally released the waves of pain that she felt over his disappearance.

"I know it is hard, but we will find out what happened to him, Octavia." Bellamy looked over Octavia's shoulder. Clarke stood helplessly. Clarke opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by the pops of gunfire that silenced the creatures in the forest. An eerie silence filled the air. Octavia, Clarke, and Bellamy crouched low to the ground, then froze in place as they listened for an impending attack.

Bellamy watched Clarke carefully as she angled her body towards the noise. Another set of shots rang through the air. A gasp of air left her mouth as the realization that Finn and Murphy might be imminent danger.

Without another thought, Clarke darted away.

"Clarke! Wait!" Bellamy yelled. He pushed his legs to move, racing towards Clarke. His long legs quickly caught up to the short blonde girl before passing her.

The sound of the bullets grew louder as he ran into an opening of the forest. As he cleared the forest's edge, a storm of misery assaulted his ears. Screams and cries echoed through the open field that led towards the center of the village. Bellamy's head whipped left and right as he searched for the source of the pain.

The smell of gunpowder and smoke rose into the air causing a hazy shadow over the village. Bellamy squinted his eyes to see through the smoke. In the middle of the village, Finn and Murphy stood over bodies. Grounder bodies.

His eyes widened at the sight of a small animal pen filled with scared people. They wailed over the loss of their family and neighbors. Women, children, and elderly grounders cowered with only a handful of younger men standing over them. They tried to use their bodies to shield the weaker Grounders.

Octavia leapt into action while he stood momentarily stunned by the unexpected death and violence. She ran over and crouched next to one of the slain villagers. Her fingers drifting delicately over his arm.

Near him, Clarke finally made a move to enter the village. She seemed to be caught in a foggy dream as her head slowly darted back and forth, taking in the deceased Grounders.

Bellamy followed Clarke in heavy silence. He was horror-stricken. These people were clearly not warriors. Their bodies were too old; too young. Wrinkled skin and youthful faces stared up at him.

He swallowed the bile that threatened to come up as he took in the glazed, brown eyes of a child no older than ten. A trickle of blood dribbled down her slack mouth.

Clarke and Bellamy wandered into the center of the village. They were mere feet from a stunned Finn.

"Clarke?" Finn whispered as he caught sight of the blonde women. A surge of happiness raced through his veins as he realized that she was okay. Clarke was alive and safe.

"I found you." He took a step towards her. She cringed back slightly from Finn.

Bellamy could feel himself panicking at the sight of Finn moving towards Clarke. There was something not right with him.

When he spoke to Clarke the night before, he meant what he said. Finn was changing. He was quickly morphing into someone unrecognizable.

When Bellamy first met the boy sent to earth for an unsanctioned spacewalk, he was a mild irritant to Bellamy. Finn and Clarke tried to create a civilized world based on the Ark's government. Bellamy knew that this was an optimistic, but unlikely concept. The rules on Earth were different. If the 100 were to survive, then they needed to defend themselves.

At this moment, Bellamy wanted to have that peacekeeper back. Even as Bellamy watched Finn, he could see there was something unhinged about the boy. Finn's eyes gleamed a little too brightly. There was no remorse over the massacre he had committed.

Bellamy grabbed Clarke's arm and attempted to pull her back. Clarke pulled away from his grip.

"What did you do, Finn?" Clarke's voice softly cried. Finn ignored her question.

"Clarke, I was so scared that you were dead? What happened?" He took another step towards her. The gun in his hand waved dangerously.

"Finn, you need to stop. Put the gun down." Bellamy's voice was strong but quiet. Soothingly, he held his hands up in a sign of peace and took a step in front of Clarke. His body shielding her from the potential danger. Finn looked down at the hand holding the gun. A look of surprise overtook his features as if he couldn't even recognize the weapon.

He looked up with a confused look on his face. His face turned ashen as he looked from the gun to the bodies around him. A pleading look took over his face, "I had to, Clarke. I had to do this to save you." He took another step towards Bellamy and Clarke.

Clarke trembled in anger and despair. "Look at these people, Finn! You didn't have to kill them. I wasn't even here. They never hurt me. These grounders are innocent, but you condemned them to die," Clarke shouted.

"You don't understand, Clarke." A menacing snarl lit up Finn's face. Bellamy felt anxiety rise up in him again as he realized that Clarke was adding more fuel to the fire.

Leaning forward, Bellamy whispered quietly in Clarke's ear, "Clarke, stop. You are not helping him. We need to get him away from that gun and this village."

Clarke's eyes darted back and forth between Finn, the villagers, and Bellamy. Bellamy was right. They needed to get as far away from these people as possible.

"I need you to understand that I did this for you." Finn pleaded. His words were a slap in Clarke's face. Guilt clamped around her heart and stomach as she realized that her disappearance caused the senseless murder of these people. She wanted to throw up as that thought overwhelmed her, but she knew that she needed to pull herself together.

"I understand." Clarke lied, "I am just glad that you are safe." She threw in a small smile even though it was destroying her. Finn's face split into a smile. He rushed forward and pulled Clarke into his arms.

The gun lay forgotten in the mud. Bellamy quickly moved forward and grabbed the gun. He turned around and could see the confusion, anger, and exhaustion on his co-leaders face. Her arms lay still at her side. Her light, blue eyes were wide and glowing with emotion.

Bellamy clenched his fists at the sight of Finn so close to Clarke. Finn was dangerous, but what could they do?

Clarke stepped out of Finn's hug. Looking up at his face, she said, "We need to go back to the Ark. We can regroup there." She stepped away and took another look around the camp. She knew that she would never forget this image.

She turned her head towards the villagers. She wanted to say something. The healer in her was begging to fix their pain, but the words in head wouldn't escape her mouth. Instead, she turned and fled from the village like a coward. Her guilt was hammering against her head. Finn clumsily followed. The grounders watched warily from the ground as the murderer left the village.

Bellamy looked at Octavia where she was still crouched near a fallen boy.

"O, we need to leave." Bellamy said. Octavia looked up startled.

"I am not leaving them," She stated in a heated voice. Bellamy flinched back from the animosity in her tone.

"Octavia, we have to go now." Bellamy demanded.

"He saved my life, Bel." She looked down at the boy on the ground. Her hand brushed the dirt away from his cheek. "I'm going to stay and help them."

Bellamy scoffed. "I will not leave you here. They will kill you. Stand up now before I carry you out of this village."

The grounder next to Octavia looked up at Bellamy. "My people will not kill her." He said.

Bellamy glared at the man who spoke. This grounder was a large man with knotted hair. Tattoos swirled around his face. Soft, gray eyes stared cautiously at Bellamy.

"Why should I believe you?" Bellamy said.

"My name is Nyko. I am the healer of this village. Octavia of the sky people saved my life. She saved my leader's life. We are not enemies. Despite what happened here today, we do not seek war." His eyes were solemn as they stared into Bellamy's brown eyes.

"Octavia, please don't do this." He pleaded. He couldn't protect her here.

"Bel, I have no choice. They-"

"You do have a choice!" Bellamy interrupted.

"Not one that I can take. I need to help fix Finn's mistake." Her voice was soft, but strong. He could see the stubborn resolve in her eyes.

Bellamy was at a loss. His hatred for the grounders grew immensely as the realization came that he would have to leave her in this godforsaken place. The urge to throw her over his shoulder swelled up in him again, but the thought disappeared as he continued to gaze down at her determined face.

"Please, Bel." Octavia whispered. He looked at her once more before he turned back to the grounder.

"Grounder, you better keep your promise or I will kill you myself." He glared down at the healer.

"If she dies, then I will accept my death." Nyko stated simply. Octavia jumped up from the ground and hugged Bellamy. Bellamy wrapped his arms around his sister. His heart felt like it was jumping in his throat. He cleared his throat before he whispered, "Until we meet again."

Octavia pulled back and breathed back, "Until we meet again."

Her lips lifted into a half-smile before she backed away.

"You and Murphy should catch up with Clarke and Finn." She said. Bellamy looked over at his shoulder to see that Murphy had not left with Clarke, but was instead standing guard near him.

Bellamy gave one last look before he turned and escaped the village. Murphy trailed slowly behind him.

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**A/N: Feel free to leave comments. I would love to hear what you have to say.**


	2. Chapter 2-Lost Lamb

**A/N: I already cranked out the second chapter. I was so inspired by the number of views. I couldn't keep myself from writing. Typically, I will update once a week. But, who knows at this point. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the plot or characters to the 100. I also do not own any of the mentioned song.**

How to Save A Life- Fray

As he goes left and you stay right  
Between the lines of fear and blame  
You begin to wonder why you came

Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend  
Somewhere along in the bitterness

Resolutions- Chapter 2- Lost Lamb

Bellamy and Murphy quickly caught up to Clarke and Finn. Clarke was leaning against a tree. Her head was bowed in despair. Her hands were wrapped around a thick oak branch. It looked like the tree was the only thing keep her up. Bellamy could practically see her body swaying back and forth in exhaustion.

Bellamy could relate. His heart was pounding relentlessly. His body was overwhelmed by hunger, exhaustion, and his emotions. He could feel the fear and worry for Octavia battling the anger and resentment that he felt towards the situation.

Clarke looked up at the approach of the two boys. She turned her confused gaze at Bellamy.

"Where's Octavia?" She asked.

Bellamy looked down, kicking the nearest stone furiously before saying, "She decided to stay." He tried to avoid the stares from his companions.

"What! You can't be serious, Bellamy," She said in disbelief.

"Unfortunately, I am," He mumbled gruffly.

"We need to go back for her," She insisted. Clarke didn't want to leave Octavia behind. She had quickly become friends with the other Blake sibling. The two had formed a tight bond during their time at the dropship. They were the only two that didn't bow down to Bellamy's tyranny. In Clarke's book, that meant a lot.

As a child, Clarke had a hard time making friends. With her parent's status on the council, other children resented her. She was often called a snob or spoiled brat.

She was extremely lonely until her parents introduced her to Wells. Under the circumstances, they were able to manufacture a relationship. Both children were desperate to have someone to talk to.

Through the years, the two friends would talk about everything. They shared their interests, their desires, and even their fears.

But, now he was gone too.

Clarke couldn't lose another person.

Bellamy gave her a glare that demanded her silence. These were the times where he wished that he could control her like the other members of the 100.

Instead, Clarke continued on, "You don't know what they are capable of, Bellamy."

"Don't be stupid, Princess. I know exactly what the grounders can do," Bellamy said sneering at her.

"Then, let's go." She made a move to turn around.

"You think I want to leave her here, Clarke. I don't have a choice in this case." Bellamy was desperately trying to control his temper. He could feel it boiling just under the surface.

"They could kill her," She whispered beseechingly.

"I KNOW THAT!" He roared. His fists were clenched at his sides. Sweat and rain water trickled down his tanned skin. His dark eyes glared murderously at Clarke.

He needed to calm down. He couldn't handle Clarke's words when part of him wanted to follow her back to the village and save his sister.

Without another word, He stormed off into the woods. Clarke listened to the sound of his heavy footsteps crashing across the forest brush. Murphy moved forward from where he had stood near Bellamy.

"Great job, Princess," Murphy scoffed, "You're sensitivity is astounding."

Clarke frowned as she realized that Murphy and Finn were still there. Finn was staring off into the woods while Murphy watched Clarke carefully.

"What are you even doing here, Murphy?" She took in the slim boy who was holding the gun. The last time she had seen Murphy, he looked like death hung-over.

He hadn't changed much sense then. His body was long and looked like it had been deprived of nourishment for too long. His dull, brown hair hung wet and limp. The deep lacerations were fading into long scratches.

"I was trying to save the day and rescue you," He jeered.

"Like hell you were," She spat.

"You don't believe me. That hurts," He said mockingly, "Ask Finn over there."

Clarke turned over to where Finn was sitting on a fallen log. He hadn't moved an inch. His eyes were glazed over. Clarke didn't know if she should check to see if he was hurt or leave him undisturbed.

An image of the village flashed through her mind. Clarke knew that she couldn't approach Finn. She was still reeling from the damage that he caused. Part of her couldn't accept that he hurt those people. This wasn't the same person that tried to create the peace treaty with the grounders.

This wasn't Finn.

Huffing, Clarke said, "I'm going to find Bellamy. Don't do anything stupid." Clarke ignored the smirk that lit up Murphy's face. She left the two men, and walked in the direction that Bellamy disappeared through.

Her mind wandered back and forth as she walked. Something was wrong. Finn's temperament and attitude changed. He seemed lost in his own thoughts. In the few minutes since being reunited in the village, Clarke could tell that his mind was scattered. He seemed confused.

Maybe there was something medically wrong with Finn. If that was the case, Clarke hoped that her mom could help him.

Even though things ended between Finn and Clarke when Raven came down from the Ark, Clarke wanted him to be okay. He was one of the reasons that Clarke was alive. His advice and companionship kept her sane when Bellamy's reign of terror almost caused the camp to destroy itself.

Clarke knew that they would always have a sense of camaraderie between them.

Dismissing that thought, Clarke continued to search for Bellamy. Pushing through the damp trees and thick woven vines, Clarke began to understand that Bellamy had gone a lot farther than she originally believed.

Idiotic boy, she thought. He chose now of all times to disappear? Clarke could practically hear the grounders sharpening their weapons, but Bellamy thought that now is the time to disappear into a forest filled with pretty much every deadly thing imaginable. An irritated growl escaped her mouth.

After forty minutes of searching, Clarke became more frustrated. After trekking through the forest all day, Clarke wanted to go lay down somewhere dry and sleep. The rain had turned into a hot, sticky, humid evening that saturated her clothes and caused drops of sweat to roll down her forehead. Her blonde hair was sticking to her neck, leaving Clarke irritable.

"Bellamy!" She shouted out. He had chosen the worst moment to vanish.

Clarke looked around her. This area was unfamiliar. The soft, jade ferns that were scattered on the floor had changed into harsh, spiked bushes. The leaves were edged with wicked points.

The trees had also changed. Most of the trees were smaller than they were when she began to search for Bellamy. The bark was rough with a dark, malevolent coloring to it. Furry vines crept up the thin trunks of the tree Clarke felt an icy bolt of fear as she realized that she had managed to get herself lost.

Anger pulsed through her body. She should have been more careful. Her carelessness allowed her to get lost.

Clarke spun around.

She tried to trace her steps, but knew it was futile at this point. Dusk was falling quickly in the forest. The trees blocked out the already limited light from the sun making it impossible for Clarke to see her footprints in the soil.

Clarke was also facing another problem. With the sweltering heat, and the lack of water and sleep, she was growing more and more unsteady on her feet. The world began to tilt left and right. Clarke placed a hand on one of the trees. Her body hunched forward as a wave of nausea hit her. Desperation clawed at her stomach.

Calm down, she said to herself. She took a deep breath before letting it go. Clarke decided that she needed to make a plan, but more importantly she needed to take a break before she continued on.

The heat was becoming unbearable. A drop of sweat rolled down her temple, slowly running around the curve of her face, before dropping to the pale skin of her clavicle.

She took the corner of her gray shirt and wiped the moisture away from her face. She lifted her face towards the sky before deciding that laying down would help her cool down.

She let her body slide down the tree. She decided that five minutes would be enough. Afterwards, she would search for Bellamy, Finn, and Murphy.

Clarke leaned back and closed her eyes. She tried to stay awake, but the day's events quickly caught up with her. Her body slumped sideways as she sluggishly slipped into a deep sleep.

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**A/N: Feel free to leave comments. I love constructive criticism. Reviews= Inspiration= Quicker updates**


	3. Chapter 3-Fallen Princess

**A/N: This chapter is almost twice the size of the first two chapters. Let's see if quality and quantity worked together. Again, I was so inspired by the amount of readers. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100, its' plot, or its' characters. This story is rated M for sexually explicit scenes, harsh language, and violence.**

Crawl by Superchic(k)

O Lord, where are you?  
Do not forget me here  
I cry in silence  
Can you not see my tears

When all have left me  
And hope has disappeared  
You'll find me here

Resolutions- Chapter 3- Fallen Princess

Bellamy slipped back into their temporary camp. He had spent a significant amount of time calming himself and felt like he could handle Clarke's insistent questions.

"Oh, Crap." Bellamy looked up to see Murphy looking warily at him.

"What do you mean 'oh, crap?'" Bellamy stared him down with a dark, intense gaze. He could see the nervousness in Murphy's posture and the way his eyes shifted nervously. Bellamy looked around the small space, searching for the cause of Murphy's caginess. He froze quickly as he took in the Finn. Alone.

"Where the hell is Clarke?" Bellamy growled.

"She followed you an hour ago. I figured that she found you and, you know, were working things out." Murphy's eyebrows rose suggestively. Bellamy's eyes squinted in response to Murphy's assumption.

"No, she didn't find me," he replied shortly. "We need to find her. Now."

In all the time that Bellamy spoke, Finn did not move.

"Finn, did you hear me?" Finn slowly turned to Bellamy. His glazed eyes met Bellamy's piercing ones.

"Clarke is missing." Remembering Finn's competency in earth skills, he asked, "Can you track her footprints?"

When Finn heard Clarke's name, the haze began to lift. He stood up unsteadily and silently nodded his head.

Turning towards Murphy, Bellamy asked, "Which way did she go?" Murphy nervously pointed towards the northern edge of the little grove. Bellamy could sense that Murphy was worried about Bellamy focusing his fury on him. Bellamy wished that he could be angry at Murphy, but he knew that it was his fault that Clarke disappeared. She was looking for him, not Murphy.

Finn immediately went and kneeled down to a spot near where Murphy pointed. His large fingers delicately stroked the green tendrils of a fern before drifting down and touching the dark soil. His fingers rubbed the wet earth between his index finger and thumb.

"We need to hurry," Finn said. "The rain has made the trail harder to follow. If it rains again, even a little, we will need to find another way to her." Finn took off into the trees without another word.

Bellamy felt relieved as Finn spoke. Finn's haunted look was replaced with a steady look of determination. He knew that Finn's focus was on finding Clarke, which meant that Bellamy could concentrate on finding Clarke without worrying about Finn snapping again. Bellamy watched Finn carefully step through the terrain. Occasionally, he would bend down and carefully inspect a broken twig or various prints in the mud.

The small group continued to steadily moving forward through the bright forest. Bellamy was confident that they would find Clarke soon. Part of him wanted to call out for her, but it was too risky. Though that village of grounders claimed that they wouldn't retaliate, it didn't mean that they were now safe from all predators.

Finn began to weave back and forth between the trees. He bent down in one place for a few minutes, then would twist his head side to side. A look of confusion overtook his face as he scanned nearby.

Bellamy noticed that the path had become more and more erratic with each step that they took. Finn would dart between to trees, loop back, and then take off in another direction.

Small grunts of frustration escaped from Finn's mouth. Bellamy stopped and looked back at Murphy. Murphy's face held a look of confusion as he followed Finn and Bellamy.

"We good, Finn?" Bellamy asked hesitantly. Finn looked between Bellamy and the tracks before shaking his head.

"What's going on then?" A small frown sat on Finn's face.

"I'm not sure. These are definitely the tracks that we started with from the beginning. I know that these aren't someone else's, but Clarke's prints are showing that she has circled around a couple times in this area."

"She is probably lost. She might be trying to find us."

"Not like this. The circles are small. It isn't like she is attempting to turn around. And look over here."

Bellamy stepped closer to Finn. Finn used the point of his boots to touch near the base of a tree. Bellamy looked at the small pair of shoeprints. The shape was clearly defined.

"See how her steps are here. She took two steps and then over here something happened." Finn moved several feet to the left. He showed Bellamy the spot where her boots became less defined in the mud. One print looked marred.

"Maybe she tripped on something," questioned Murphy.

"Maybe. But in the last ten minutes, I have seen something similar at least four times. Clarke isn't that clumsy."

"What are you thinking?" Bellamy's voice was low as he asked the tracker for his opinion.

"She might be hurt, but I haven't found anything that proves that."

"Okay, we can work with that. No blood is a good thing. Let's keep moving. Lights starting to fade and I can feel it cooling down." The air had begun to change with the sunlight fading. The rain had left a cool breeze. The wind caused the leaves to shift into a cacophony of sounds.

Bellamy pulled his shirt away from his body. The dampness from the rain and the cool air cast a biting chill. Goosebumps broke across his tanned arm. The short, light-colored hairs stood up on end.

Finn didn't need Bellamy to urge him forward. He began to frantically search the forest floor. He broke into a light jog.

"She fell again over here!" shouted Finn. Bellamy looked around him warily. He wasn't sure what happened to the Princess, but yelling would surely draw out their enemies.

Bellamy carefully watched the gigantic trees for movement. The trees were a deep jade color, highlighted by the dewy drops of water. Wind shook the leaves causing the water to spill over them.

Bellamy swept his gaze over the area again. Clarke had to be around here.

Ten minutes turned into twenty minutes. The day's end was officially impeding their search. Finn's eyes squinted tightly to see the tracks in the darkness. Their feet tripped over fallen tree branches and shifting gravel. The limbs of the trees grasped at their shirts and left small cuts where they ripped at the men's skin.

Bellamy stopped when he heard a grunting noise behind him. He turned around towards the sound. Murphy was kneeling on all fours. Despite the cool air, his face was tinged red and covered in sweat. His breath was uneven. Another groan left his mouth.

"Finn, we need to slow down," Bellamy said regretfully.

Finn turned towards him angrily.

"We can't slow down," he said fiercely.

"Look at Murphy. He can't continue like this." As if planned, Murphy expelled the little food and water he ate that morning. Bellamy's face scrunched up in disgust.

"We can't stop looking, Bellamy. She could be in danger."

"We will be at risk if we can't defend ourselves. There are other things to think about." Finn glowered at Bellamy heatedly.

"You stay then. I am going to keep searching. Give me a gun." His hand reached out in entreaty.

"Don't be an idiot, Finn. We need to stay as a group." Bellamy clutched the gun closer to his body.

"I don't care about what you do or what you think, Bellamy. I thought I made that blatantly obvious from the beginning. Now, give me the damn gun so I can go after Clarke."

"No."

"That wasn't a question." Finn surged forward. His body was angled to knock Bellamy down. Bellamy lunged forward meeting Finn on. He let his weight collide against the other man. A grunt escaped Bellamy.

Physically, Bellamy and Finn were evenly matched. During their time on the planet, Bellamy and Finn changed. Like many other men and women of the 100, the harsh environment cultivated thick muscles on their arms and legs. Bellamy was a few inches taller than Finn, but Finn had a sturdier build.

Bellamy felt sharp jabs hit his ribs. Using one leg, he knocked Finn to the ground. The two males became so entangled together that Bellamy fell on top of him. A small groan escaped him as he felt a bony knee bash against his hip.

"Finn! Stop!" yelled Bellamy. In the background, he could hear Murphy shouting. A savage roar exploded from Finn's mouth.

A fist flew towards his face. He felt the heat and pain from the solid blow delivered to his jaw by Finn. The taste of blood filled his mouth.

Something snapped inside of Bellamy. The anger that always simmered just under the Bellamy's skin burst through, overtaking the small amount of control that Bellamy clung too.

Weaving left, Bellamy managed to locks Finn's arms under his body. Bellamy's forearm pressed against Finn's neck hard enough to cut off the air supply.

Small choked gasps exited Finn's mouth. He tried to squirm underneath, but couldn't gain any advantage of the man who was a soldier-in-training on the Ark. Bellamy held on tightly until Finn stopped struggling.

"I've always hated you." Bellamy pressed his forearm harder on Finn's neck. The boy's face turned a dangerous shade of red. "But unlike you, I am using my head. Stop fighting me and suck it up. I want to find Clarke just as much as you. We can't find her if you are acting like a moron."

Bellamy relaxed his grip on Finn and stood up. He solemnly watched Finn turn onto his side and gasp for breath. His deep breaths mingled with the wail of the wind.

"Finn-" Bellamy stopped short as he heard the tortured screams of a creature echoing through the dark forest. Bellamy's body tensed as he recognized the pained wails of a girl. One thought echoed through his mind.

Clarke.

He lunged away from Finn and Murphy into the woods. His feet sloshed through the mud. Numerous times, Bellamy slipped nearly falling to his knees. The screaming continued. Bellamy was getting closer to the calls. He whispered a silent pray.

"Please let me get there in time," he pleaded.

Bellamy pulled his gun up. Clicking the safety off, he charged into a break in the woods. Looking around, he searched for the noise. Two legs stuck out from behind a tree. They thrashed back and forth on the ground.

"Clarke!" Bellamy shouted. A strange feeling overtook him as he raced over to his co-leader. He kneeled down next to her form searching for the cause of her pain. She twitched on to her side before vomiting.

Behind him, he heard two people crash into the clearing.

He looked at them in a beseeching manner. "What's wrong with her?" They stood shocked and silent.

Bellamy gently put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her towards his body. Through her shirt, he could feel the heat of her skin despite the cool air swirling through the woods. Her olive top felt damp with sweat and mud.

He pushed back the hair from her face carefully. More heat radiated off of her forehead. When he finally pushed the damp, blonde curls away from her face, he was able to glance at her face. Her skin seemed waxy and pulled taut against the bones of her face. Dark rings shadowed her eyes. Soft pants escaped from her mouth between the screeching.

"She's feverish."

He winced as another round of shrieks overwhelmed his ears. Bellamy tried to think about what could have caused this. The only thing he could consider was that she was poisoned, but when did that happen? Why was it only working now?

He began pulling the sleeves of her shirt up. Her skin burned his where they touched. He turned her arm, looking for an injection mark or blemish. A red blush casted blotchy patches on her lightly tanned skin. Bellamy pulled up the legs of her pants even going as far as taking her boots and socks off. He ran his hand over the silky, soft skin. Nothing was there.

A choking gasp fell from Clarke's mouth before a rush of liquid raced up from her stomach. Bellamy turned her to her side a second before the vomit covered the ground.

"Goddammit!" cried Bellamy. Bellamy's fingers returned to the area around her stomach. He pulled the shirt up to cover her chest. Behind him, Finn made a noise of anger before quieting himself. Even he could tell that there was nothing sexual about the feather-like touch of Bellamy's fingers. This exploration was purely to discover the source of Clarke's sickness.

He turned her body so that he could see her back.

A small whimper escaped her as his finger trailed up her spine.

Taking a deep breath, Bellamy realized that he would have to pull her shirt up even higher. It was unavoidable considering he still had not found the cause of Clarke's sickness.

He dragged the fabric up over her chest so that it rested just under her armpits. Bellamy felt uncomfortable at the exposure of his co-leader. He could just imagine how upset she would be if Bellamy saw her like this.

Another pained, guttural shriek exited her lips causing Bellamy to snap back into the present. Bellamy repressed his personal feelings and began to search for any wounds. It took a few seconds of scanning over her skin before he found the origin of this illness.

A deep cut ran several inches from the top of her ribs. The cut disappeared underneath the band of a dark bra.

The skin looked shredded and inflamed. His fear grew as he realized that a pungent ooze was leaking from the wound.

Solemnly, he made eye contact with Finn. "Clarke's mom said that when they brought her back, she had been in a fight and was in rough shape. They thought she was one because she was covered in blood and dirt. The grounder must have cut her. It's infected."

"So she's dead." Murphy's tone was matter-of-fact, but there was a questioning look.

"No," snarled Finn. Bellamy looked hopelessly back at Clarke. Her face was scrunched up in agony. Her closed eyes twitched. Clarke had to live. She knew Mount Weather. She knew how to keep the 100 alive. More importantly, she knew him.

She had to live.

"She is not going to die. Get her pack Finn." He pointed a few feet away from Murphy. Bellamy knew that Clarke brought the seaweed from the river with her in case they found Finn injured.

If they could put that over the wound, maybe, just maybe, she would be able to make it back to the Ark.

Finn handed Bellamy the gray bag. He dug inside of it quickly finding a corked bottle of clear liquid and a handful of the red seaweed. He pulled the cork out using his teeth and was instantly reeling back as the sharp scent of Monty's moonshine hit him in the face.

Very carefully, Bellamy reached behind her and unsnapped the clasp of her bra. He covered her chest with her shirt limiting the amount of skin shown. He gently pulled the straps down the side of her arm before pulling the undergarment off.

Finn clenched his fists again as he watched Bellamy. He did not want the older man touching Clarke at all. His hatred towards Bellamy increased every second that he watched him with Clarke.

Unaware of the animosity that Finn felt, Bellamy called out, "Finn, I need you to pin her down. Keep her from moving."

Finn rushed forward to help. He gently put pressure on her shoulder. Bellamy gritted his teeth before slowly dumping the alcohol on Clarke's skin.

As soon as the liquid touched her skin, Clarke arched up. A violent keening noise screeched from her throat. Tears slipped down her cheek. Finn held tightly on to Clarke trying to hold her still.

A choked sob escaped her before her body fell still. Finn and Bellamy panicked. Finn released her from his grip. He quickly pressed his fingers to her throat and nearly collapsed in relief as he felt the too-quick strum of her heart.

"She passed out." He said.

Bellamy took the seaweed and rolled it in his hands before cautiously applying it to the slash on her skin. He tore a long portion of his shirt and soaked it with the alcohol. He wrapped it around once before tying it tightly behind her back.

Bellamy lowered her shirt. Standing up, he brushed the grit off of his pants.

"We need to go now."

"Go?" Murphy balked. The darkness fell swiftly on the forest, permeating the woods. Bellamy understood that this was a concern, but it didn't matter.

"We need to get back to the Ark as soon as we can. Clarke's mom can figure out if this is an infection or something more."

"Before we heard her, we decided that searching in the _dark_ was too dangerous. Now, you want to race through the forest to save her life?"

"Yes," answered Bellamy.

"When did you decide her life meant more than anyone else's, Bellamy?" Murphy said in disgust. "The Bellamy I knew wouldn't let some spoiled princess take priority."

"Shut it, Murphy." Bellamy ground out. "If you want to stay here, then fine by me. But this is the end of the discussion." Murphy's mouth clamped shut, but the frustration in his eyes was clear to everyone.

Bellamy thought about how they should travel, "Finn, can you lead and get us back to the camp."

"I can try," he said hesitantly.

Bellamy looked thoughtfully at Finn. Despite how much he hated the idea of a gun in Finn's hands, he knew that Finn should have it while Bellamy carried Clarke. He slowly pulled the gun strap over his head before offering it to Finn.

Finn quickly reached to grab it. Before he could pull it out of Bellamy's hands, Bellamy said, "This will not be a shoot first, ask questions later situation."

The younger man shook his head once. Bellamy reluctantly let go before picking up Clarke's body.

Finn, Bellamy, and Murphy took off into the woods. Their feet crashed against the soft earth and fallen tree branches.

Time passed quickly during the night. Bellamy's mind was occupied with thoughts of the fallen princess in his arms. He stole quick glances of her as he moved. Her lips constantly moved; unheard words spilled from her pale, pink lips. Bellamy tried to strain his ears to her message, but it was lost in the swirling wind and heavy footsteps.

They continued running off and on. All of the men were covered with perspiration, physical exhausted, and mentally spent. Occasionally, they would stop or slow down to a walk, but a small gasp or choking noise from Clarke sent them off.

Bellamy tried to ignore the increasing pain in his arms. After several hours of holding her body, he knew that they would have to stop or figure something out soon. Physically, Clarke was short. If Bellamy had to guess a height, he would guess that she was 5'3, maybe 5'4.

The problem was that she was solidly made of muscle and soft feminine curves. After holding her for hours, she essentially felt like steel in his arms.

Bellamy gritted his teeth and continued to trek through the forest. His arms had moved past the stage of burning into numbness.

"Stop." Bellamy breathlessly called out. "I'm going to drop her if we don't stop." He lowered her to the ground. He balled his hands into fists as the blood shot up through her arms. A small groan escaped his mouth. He tried to work out the pain, but his arms had turned into pins and needles.

"I need to switch. Murphy, you have to carry her. We can slow down if you need us to." Murphy was still panting restlessly.

"Finn, how much longer?" Murphy asked.

"If we slow down… an hour," Finn answered.

"If we don't?"

"Twenty minutes."

"I can keep pace." Murphy's face was red. A sickly look had overcome his features. Dark circles showed the effects from sleep deprivation.

Murphy bent down and tossed her over his shoulder. Her lean arms trailed limply behind him. Bellamy bit his tongue, trying to keep from yelling at Murphy. He knew that her position slumped over Murphy's shoulder would put pressure over the infected wound, but he understood the necessity of carrying her that way.

Finn took off in the lead again. Bellamy let Murphy go ahead of him while he stayed back. He watched Murphy for any weakness, but the teenager impressively moved forward.

Finn, Bellamy, and Murphy kept running until they could hear the noise from the Ark. Relieved, Bellamy called for the others to stop at the forest line.

"We need to make sure that the guards aren't as trigger happy as they were the last time we were here."

Finn, taking Bellamy's lead, exited the tree line. A section of the Ark towered over them. When Bellamy first shot Jaha and escaped onto the dropship, he believed that the memory of his former home would cause him to break into a cold sweat, but seeing it now, Bellamy only felt relief.

Underneath, he could see how busy the survivors were. Even though it was it was early morning, and the sun was hours from rising, a group of men and women bustled around the camp. Soldiers stood ready to defend the former members of the Ark.

Shouts of alarm rose as a private caught sight of the small group.

Bellamy held his hands up in a sign of relief. A small group of escorts came forward led by Major Byrne.

The stern women immediately began to ask questions. How did they get away from the Ark? Why did they leave? Where did they go? Did they see grounders? How did they survive? The questions came faster and faster as the blonde women spoke to Bellamy.

"We can talk lat-" Bellamy began.

"No. You will answer my questions," interrupted Byrne.

Finn was officially done. He couldn't contain the rage inside of him.

"Do you not see what we are dealing with? Move out of our way!" Finn screamed. Five gunmen jerked their weapons up.

"Calm down, Finn. Major, I will answer your questions after I get to Abby Griffin. Clarke is extremely sick." Bellamy pointed to her body still slung over Murphy's shoulder.

"Fine. But when you have settled her, find me. I want answers from you."

"Agreed." The guards lowered their weapons and allowed the group to pass.

As they entered the camp, Bellamy could see Clarke's mother sprinting towards them. Another younger medic chased her.

"Clarke!" She cried as she got closer. Worry and stress pulled the muscles in her face tight.

"She has an old cut near the ribs on her left side. It looks infected. We tried to help as much as possible."

"Thank you." A look of gratitude lit her face. Murphy transferred Clarke into the other man's arms.

"Just help her," Bellamy said quietly. He watched as the two medic rushed away towards the Ark.

Turning away, he went to go finish dealing with Major Byrne. Exhaustion slowly crept into his fatigued, aching muscles. He wanted this day to end as soon as possible.

* * *

**A/N: Did anyone else wonder about the mysterious healing powers that Clarke supposedly possessed from her battle with Anya. I sure did.**

**As always, feel free to leave a review.**


	4. Chapter 4-Vulnerable

**A/N: Disclaimer: I do not own the 100. Resolution is rated M for strong sexual scenes, graphic violence, and language.**

Afraid by The Neighbourhood

When I wake up I'm afraid, somebody else might take my place  
When I wake up I'm afraid, somebody else might take my place

Being me can only mean feeling scared to breathe  
If you leave me then I'll be afraid of everything  
That makes me anxious, gives me patience, calms me down

Resolutions- Chapter 4- Vulnerable

"WHAT!" Bellamy bellowed. His chest quickly rose up and down. His face was burning with rage.

"You need to settle down, or I will arrest you," Major Byrne stated calmly. A smug smirk circled her otherwise blank face.

"They let us go! You want to senselessly _murder_ them. Because they have the _potential _to threaten us." Bellamy could not believe this woman. After Bellamy finished explaining what occurred during their trek into the woods, she promptly demanded the information to find the village. Byrne made the decision that the village would need to be wiped off the metaphorical map.

He didn't know why this surprised him. On the Ark, the laws stated that executions were "okay" to prevent an uprising. Even simple disobedience meant being floated. Part of him had hoped that things could change; the 100 had proven that with their survival. Despite being criminals, they had found a way to work together. Hanging Murphy by his neck, made the 100 realize that they needed to be different. They could survive without floating lawbreakers. They could rewrite their history.

But looking at Major Byrne's rigid stance, arms crossed sharply across her body and shoulders held straight back, he had to acknowledge that human nature was a hard thing to alter. The adults from the Ark would always resort to punishment and fear.

"It is precautionary. They will regroup and attack us." Her mouth twitched into a deep frown.

"They were women, elders, nothing dangerous. Finn already slaughtered at least a third of the group."

"They can still attack us."

"So you exterminate them on the chance that they come after us?"

"Yes," Byrne stated bluntly.

"I won't do it. It's immoral." Bellamy's balled his fists where they rested on a hard, steel table.

"It's not a choice."

"That's where you are wrong. I will not kill any more of that village. You didn't see them." The image of the dead grounders entered his mind. "They were people. They had friends, neighbors, loved ones. We destroyed that by sending Finn out."

"You played vigilantly and it backfired. You should never have left camp. But you did leave, violating a direct order from the acting chancellor. Technically, I could arrest you based off of that. If I don't get this information willingly, I will take it from you, and then you will spend time in here until I decide what to do with you."

"The answer is no. I don't pointlessly murder."

"I have no choice then. I hate that I have to do this, but you are giving me no other option." Her face twisted into a look of false concern. "Lieutenant, stand Mr. Blake up."

Bellamy looked up in alarm as Lieutenant Jonathon Jones moved forward. Bellamy remembered Jones from when he was a grunt-in-training.

Jones was a ruthless soldier that was often used to break up tension or smother violent outbreaks within the members of the Ark. Most people tried to avoid him.

The large man moved forward, placing a meaty paw on Bellamy's shoulder. Bellamy tried to twist out of his grip, but Johnson pulled him up as easily as a child would be moved.

"Are you still not going to say anything?" asked Byrne.

Bellamy stared straight through her in response. He would not help her.

She quickly put her hand on her belt. She pulled out her baton and switched on the small button. Bellamy's eyes widened in response to the club lighting up. The electric current on the baton buzzed menacingly.

"Put him over there." Bellamy knew that it was useless to fight, but it was not in his nature to passively concede. He struggled momentarily before Jones's death grip forcefully subdued him. He pulled Bellamy over to a steel beam in the center of the room.

Jones attached a pair of handcuffs to his hands. They were wrapped around the steel beam, effectively trapping him. He looked over his shoulder defiantly.

"Last chance, Blake."

"Go to Hell." Bellamy felt Jones's hands grab at his shirt and tear it open. The air was unpleasantly cool on his back. Byrne smirked as she walked over to him.

"Let's see what you're thinking after a few lashes." Byrne jabbed the baton into Bellamy's lower back. Electricity slammed through his body. His muscles contracted quickly as the burning pain exploded in his back. His eyes clenched shut. Bellamy couldn't think around the pain.

"Tell me what I want Bellamy," demanded Byrne.

"No." The resulting lash caused his teeth to clamp shut over his cheek. The tangy metallic taste of blood coated his mouth. A pained moan filled the air.

"I will get what I need." In quick succession, she hit him over his shoulder blade, on his spine, and near his kidney. Bellamy couldn't contain the groans. His back arched with each blow.

"One last chance." Bellamy refused to give into her. His silence was fueled by stubborn anger. He heard a click behind him. He twisted his head to see what was happening.

The baton seemed to glow brighter. Byrne stood back and watched the panic enter in Bellamy's brown eyes. Without another word, she swung the baton at his shoulders. Bellamy's body jerked uncontrollably as the electricity burnt his skin.

A tortured scream burst from his lips.

Instead of pulling the weapon back, Major Byrne pushed it deeper into Bellamy's tanned flesh. She only stopped her abuse when she saw Bellamy slump forward.

The doors to the small room flew open. Abby Griffin looked around the interrogation room. Angrily, she strode forward into the space.

"What the hell is going on?" Abby probed.

"I'm interrogating Blake, Chancellor. He is refusing to share vital information that we need now." Major Byrne's tone was sharp as she answered Chancellor Griffin's answer.

"On whose authority?" Abby snapped back. Byrne's looked hesitant.

"You weren't available ma'am. I needed the information quickly before it was too late."

"Do not act without an order. You were completely out of line." Abby glared at Byrne.

Abby went over and checked on Bellamy. His body lankly dangled from the cuffs attached to the beam. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing heavily.

"He needs to be taken to the medic bay. He passed out. Lieutenant bring him over there so I can help him. "

Ignoring Jones as he unchained Bellamy, Abby stepped closer to the blonde women and said, "If anything happens like this again, I will deal with you myself. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal." Abby ignored the way Byrne's eyes narrowed in contempt. She stepped out of the room, rushing over to the med bay.

As Abby stepped into the med bay, she noticed that Bellamy was already awake on a chair. His glazed eyes stared straight at the wall as Jackson gently cleaned the burns on his back. Abby dismissed Jackson with a nod of her head before taking over. She inspected the skin, twisting her head sideways before taking a wet cotton ball and dabbing the skin. Bellamy flinched away from the sting of the antiseptic liquid.

An icy silence covered the room. The only noises were the hum of the machine. Bellamy broke the silence before Abby.

"How's Clarke?" Bellamy's voice was rough.

"Stable. Her blood turned septic." Bellamy shot her a confused look over his shoulder.

"Blood poisoning," clarified Dr. Griffin, "Pretty serious."

"Is she going to be okay?"

"We will have to wait. Septicemia is very serious. The infection is raging through her blood stream. Her fever spiked to 104.2, and she couldn't breathe easily. She is on oxygen and fluids, but at this point, only time will tell." Her voice spoke in an even tone.

"Where is she?"

"A private room. She..." Dr. Griffin's voice broke, "There have been a lot of complications. Fevers can cause severe hallucinations. She doesn't seem to understand where she is. When she is awake, all she does is scream. I've had to keep her sedated. Her fever dropped steadily over the last couple of hours, but she seems trapped in this delirious state."

"Have you tried the seaweed? Clarke swears that river seaweed can cure pretty much everything."

"We are."

A brief silence overtook the room as Bellamy considered what Clarke's mother shared with him.

"She'll be fine." Bellamy didn't wait for an answer before he continued, "Clarke is smart and capable. She is also a survivor. Some stupid cut isn't going to kill her off. She's way too stubborn for that." Abby's hands stilled. A deep blush colored his cheeks.

"Are…did…" Dr. Griffin's voice stuttered. He could hear her take a deep breath, "You seem to know Clarke well."

"Not really," Bellamy muttered. They both quieted down. Abby began dabbing a pungent cream on to Bellamy's back, soothing the stinging burns. When she walked around, she made eye-contact with the young man.

"To be honest, I don't understand you or your relationship with my daughter. When Clarke first asked me to get Jaha to pardon you, I thought that Clarke was an idiot for allowing a murderer to walk around scot-free. Clearly, you aren't just some killer. What I want to know is if I need to worry about you, Blake. Are you a threat to my daughter?"

"Clarke and I work together. We are simply partners trying to keep our people alive. Nothing more, nothing less." Bellamy could barely meet the intelligent eyes of Clarke's mother. Her brown eyes scrutinized the young man.

"If you want to see her you can. We are discontinuing the drugs that are sedating her." Bellamy's head jerked up at the statement. Part of him expected her to ban him from coming near Clarke.

"Sure. I need to ask her some questions."

Dr. Griffin's mouth turned up slightly at Bellamy's excuse. "I doubt she will be ready for that anytime soon, but be my guess. It would be nice to know something about the 100. Her room is the second door on the right if you go through that door." She pointed to a door leading out of the med bay.

Bellamy moved towards the door, only stopping when he heard Abby call out.

"Hey, Blake. Be careful. With your back, I mean. It will be sensitive for a while. I would know." She turned and showed him the healing scabs of her own battle burns. She winked before exiting the area.

Bellamy paused before he slowly walked towards the door, through the hallway, and pushed open the door to Clarke's private room.

A fast beeping noise filled the room. Bellamy looked around. A curtain covered a majority of the space.

Bellamy hesitated before striding over to the curtain. His hand grasped the gray, plastic sheet. He pulled it away quickly, revealing a silent Clarke. Bellamy immediately felt weirded out as he looked at her.

Clarke's head was propped up on a white pillow. Her hair, which was usually swaying around her shoulders, was pulled up in a high ponytail. Her face was wiped clean. Someone covered her slack mouth and small, slightly upturned nose with a clear mask. Air pushed into the mask through a thin tube.

Someone had removed her stained shirt completely. Clean, white bandages were wrapped around her chest, leaving her shoulders bare. Her arms sat delicately on the clean linen sheets. Her doctors attached several wires and a needle into her left arm. A bag of liquids dripped down into a clear tube. He watched as the liquid ran down into the needle in her arm.

He felt nervous watching her. He did not feel uneasy because of her bare arms and shoulders, or the fact that he was watching her while she slept. No, he felt edgy because she looked like she could be dead.

Lately, it felt like ninety percent of the time, Bellamy was killing someone or someone he knew had died. Her face resembled so many of the 100s' faces as they passed on. It pissed Bellamy off to no end that Clarke was sitting in the med bed looking like them.

Her face was relaxed, almost child-like in its' state. The wrinkle that sat between her normally furrowed eyebrows was smooth. Her lashes, long and dark, brushed against the deathly pale skin of her cheeks. Only the visible puffs of breath in her mask, let Bellamy know that she was alive.

For hours, he sat on a small stool, watching her, waiting for something to happen.

At one point, Abby's colleague, stepped into the room.

"Abby said we are going to stop sedating her. Clarke seems stable enough. If something happens come get us." Jackson went over and fiddled with the bag of fluids, removing the needle from her arm. Bellamy ignored him as he moved around Clarke, checking her other arm and neck as he went.

He quietly left the room. Bellamy returned to his silent thoughts. After several hours of restlessly sitting, Bellamy heard breathless noises escape her. The beeping from the heart rate machine increased.

He looked down at her face. She seemed much tenser than before. She whimpered and would shift slightly before whimpering again.

Before long, Bellamy could see her skin begin to perspire. Her eyes were clenched shut. Bellamy kept going back and forth about getting Dr. Griffin or Dr. Jackson.

Bellamy stayed with her hoping that it would pass.

He quickly realized that it wouldn't. Her body began to thrash around the bed. Two tightly balled fists clung to the sheets. The whimpers turned into screams. Bellamy froze at the first screech.

Before getting sick, Bellamy would have sworn that Clarke was invincible. Very few things seemed to scare Clarke, but when he began to hear her voice begging for help, it truly frightened him. Her voice broke into high, mournful keens. Most of the words were mumbled ramblings, but occasionally Clarke would string together a few words.

Bellamy reached towards her, hesitating slightly before brushing her closed fists. He whispered small words of comfort hoping that it would relax her.

Stroking Clarke's hand brought back painful memories.

He remembered times on the Ark where Octavia would get sick. Those were always the worst because he could never get medicine for her. He would worry more and more as each day passed.

There was one year in particular where a bad case of the flu overwhelmed Octavia's tiny body. Bellamy remembered going down into the floor and holding her exhausted body against his. Her sobs and pleas sounded painful. At that moment, Bellamy had wished that he was sick instead of Octavia.

Now, he wished that he could do the same for Clarke.

Several minutes lapsed. Her body stopped shaking, but she seemed to get louder. More words poured out of her mouth. Bellamy felt conflicted over how to help her.

At one point, her voice screamed out so loudly that Bellamy jumped. "Hurt. Please. Go. No!" she cried.

"You're okay, Princess. I promise you that you are safe," he soothed.

Bellamy felt a twist in his gut at her words. Clarke's terror was palpable as she screamed.

"Bell…Leave…Alone…No, no, no!" As he listened to her, it became apparent that Bellamy had made an appearance in Clarke's nightmare. He hated admitting it, but he felt hurt. He thought that the Clarke had begun to trust him. Apparently, not though.

Bellamy pushed his feelings aside and began to caress her face, trying desperately to wake her up without physically shaking her. Her pained shrieks overwhelmed his ears.

"Clarke, you're safe. Wake up. Clarke you have to wake up. Wake up!" Bellamy demanded loudly, "No one will hurt you."

He felt hopeless as he watched her turn on her side and sob into the pillow. Screw it, he thought. She needed to wake up now.

He sat down next to her on her cot. He bent down and scooped her into his lap. He pulled her face out of the crook of his neck. Tipping her chin back, he looked down at her tear-stained face.

"Clarke! Enough!" He watched her eyes fluttered open and shut, "No! Clarke, wake up."

Clarke moaned quietly. He could hear her sniffling as she tried to calm down. Her body shifted closer to him.

"Clarke?" Bellamy stopped talking. He wanted to ask her if she was okay, but that seemed idiotic.

"Hurts."

"Do you want me to get a doctor or your mom?"

"No." Bellamy could feel her warm breath on his neck. His entire body felt like it was on fire with her frame pushed against his.

"Where am I? What happened?" Clarke asked roughly.

"We are at Camp Jaha's med bay. You decided to withhold your injury from your fight with Anya. The cut on stomach became infected, and your blood turned septic."

"Septic?"

"Yeah, it means-"

"I know what it means, Bellamy." She moaned and shifted in his arms. She froze suddenly as she realized that her face was pressed into his hard chest.

Her heart sped up. A small blush appeared on her cheeks.

"Bellamy, put me down." Bellamy stilled and hastily set her down.

"Why…?" Her face still sticky with sweat, turned up to look at Bellamy.

Bellamy answered her unspoken question, "You were screaming in your sleep. I, uh, thought that maybe you needed help. When Octavia had nightmares, I would hold her. It seemed to calm her down." His hand roughly rubbed the back of his neck.

Clarke weakly smiled. Vulnerability was a rare trait in Bellamy.

"Thanks."

"It really wasn't a problem, Clarke."

"Still, you didn't have to."

"Actually, I did. The doctors have had to sedate you every single time. I need you to tell me about Mount Weather. Afterward, they can sedate you if you are a pain in their asses." said Bellamy gruffly.

Clarke glared at him in response. "You are such an ass."

Bellamy smirked at Clarke. Despite her rough voice and pale complexion, he enjoyed the banter. His relief made him practically feel giddy.

Until, he remembered her fearfully calling out his name.

"So… What were you dreaming about?" He raised an eyebrow. He watched her instantly shut down. Her teeth bit down on her soft lower lip.

"I don't want to talk about it." Her face was blank, but her deep, blue eyes seemed to swirl with unspoken emotions.

"Come on, Princess."

"Bellamy, drop it," she said sharply.

"Pretty please."

"Why do you even care about it?"

"I heard some of the things you said. I don't know. Maybe, I just want to know why you were saying that stuff."

A heated blush bloomed across her cheeks. The blood rushed from the top of her ears down to her uncovered chest. Her voice was squeaky as she said, "What did I say?"

Bellamy would have smirked at her embarrassment, but instead he answered the question.

"It sounded like you were scared of me." His voice sounded sad to Clarke.

"It wasn't that."

"What was it then?"

"I…can't remember it all."

"Then tell me what you can remember."

"It really wasn't important."

"Clearly, it was."

"God, Bellamy. It doesn't matter."

"Just tell me already."

"Fine! Then will you fucking stop?" Clarke exclaimed.

Bellamy stopped short. The princess had cursed him out numerous times but never with this much animosity. Her words dripped with anger and disdain.

"Never mind Clarke. You don't have to tell me," he mumbled.

"Seriously? You badger me to death about it and then you tell me, 'never mind?' Come on, Bellamy."

"You clearly don't trust me enough to tell me." Clarke openly rolled her eyes at his statement.

"Don't be like that. Right now, you are the only one I trust here." Her blue eyes gazed piercingly at his. "Which is completely stupid, might I add."

"Why is it stupid?" He looked at her in confusion.

"Because you hate me, and I despise you, which works for us."

"Do you really hate me? Because, I don't hate you."

"Yes, you do. You even tried to kill me."

Scoffing, he said, "If I wanted you dead, princess, it would have happened in those first weeks we arrived here."

"Really?"

"Really."

"That's strangely reassuring."

"That's me. Mr. Reassurance."

"Funny."

"I know." Clarke rolled her eyes again.

"Shut up, Bellamy."

"You have to tell me why you were upset, Princess. Then, I will gladly grant you your wish."

"I was back at Mount Weather." A frown appeared on her face.

"I didn't hear much about Mount Weather."

"You should probably know everything that happened." Clarke chewed on her bottom lip nervously.

"It would definitely help." He gave her a reassuring smile which she returned gratefully.

Taking a deep breath, she said, "When I first woke up, I was in a white room. They had drugged us at the drop ship, so I had a hard time moving around. Honestly, I remember the overwhelming fear. I was alone in that room, but I couldn't recall how I got there."

"I thought I was going to die in those white rooms." Clarke paused before saying, "The room had a small window on the door, so I looked through it. Outside my door, I saw Monty in another room, but he disappeared from his room a couple of days later. Someone, a girl named Maya, was sanitizing his room. I freaked out. That signaled my first jailbreak. It wasn't very successful."

Bellamy gave her a questioning look. She held up her arm, showing him the graze on her arm.

"I smashed through the window. When I was reaching down to open the door, I sliced it on some glass. It was actually stupid. I grabbed a shard of glass and held it against her throat. Again, it didn't work. It just pissed her off." Clarke smirked at Bellamy.

"Their leader tried to explain that they came in peace and cared about integrating us into Mount Weather's system. It was total crap. I knew it, but everyone else believed them. They were completely suckered in by the idea of food and safety," she spat bitterly, "Jasper even told me I was crazy to want to leave."

"So how did you get out?"

"I tore the stitches out on my arm. They had no choice but to stick me in medical."

"Brave, Princess." They shared a smug look before Clarke grew somber again.

"When I was alone, I snuck away. I managed to get into this area. It was horrible," she said, "They kept the grounders in there.

"The mountain men strung a couple of them upside and slowly drained them of all their blood. You could hear the pleading voices of the people who were still conscious. There were so many cages. Cages filled with not animals, but people. They treated the grounder like savages, but they are the savages," she said viciously.

Tears slid down her soft cheeks.

"You aren't there anymore, Clarke. You are safe."

"In my dreams, we were there."

"We?"

"Yeah, we, you and I. We went back for our people, but we were separated trying to get them out. Someone grabbed me and dragged me away. I was forced into a dark room. They threw me into a grounder cage. I don't know how long I was in there."

Clarke blew out a deep breath before continuing, "You didn't know."

"What do you mean?"

"They replaced me, and you didn't know. A perfect clone of me traveled with you and the members of the 100. You left with them. You left me."

Bellamy felt helpless as she confessed her fears. He wished that he hadn't forced Clarke to talk about her dream.

"Clarke… That would never happen. You are such an impossible pain in my ass that no one could replace you."

"I feel like I am replaceable. The adults are here now, so no one needs me. I will go back to nothing," she said bitterly.

"The 100 will always see you as their princess, Clarke. We talked about this before. They trust you. You make them feel safe. Just because the adults are here, doesn't mean that we don't have a responsibility to our people. They are in danger, and it is up to us to save them." He gave her a hard look, examining her dropping eyelid and yawning mouth. "But, we should wait until you can stand on two feet."

He gave her the signature Bellamy smirk. She smiled back.

"I'll be out of here in two days at the most."

"Yeah, right." Clarke glared at his mocking smirk. She childishly stuck her tongue out at him before closing her eyes. Bellamy watched her with a soft look in his eyes. Things sucked in the real world, but sitting with Clarke inside this room made him feel peaceful.

* * *

**A/N: How'd everyone feel about those Bellarke moments? As always, feel free to write comments about the plot, the writing, or whatever else pops into your wonderful heads.**


	5. Chapter 5-Sound of Silence

**A/N: Hi Everyone. Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100. Resolutions is rated M for graphic language, descriptive lemons, and gory violence. **

Sound of Silence

Fools said I, you do not know  
Silence like a cancer grows  
Hear my words that I might teach you  
Take my arms that I might reach you  
But my words like silent raindrops fell  
And echoed in the wells of silence

Resolutions- Chapter 5- Sound of Silence

"There is no fucking way!" growled Bellamy.

Bellamy could literally feel the steam pouring out of his ears as he gazed at an equally angry Clarke.

Five days had passed since Clarke woke up.

Despite the fact that she drove everyone insane in the process, she did manage to give her body the opportunity to heal. Dr. Griffin officially gave her permission for more strenuous activities.

Clarke's excitement over her own release quickly became apparent as she threw herself into preparing for the rescue of the 100.

"You are not my father, Bellamy," Clarke retorted heatedly.

"I think we both know that. What I didn't know is that you have a death wish. I also didn't realize that I was the only one thinking things through. Clearly, I am after that ridiculous plan that you suggested."

The slamming of a metal door drew both leaders away from their intense argument. They watched as their dark-haired friend limped into the med bay.

Raven Reyes grinned at them knowingly as she took in the Bellamy and Clarke's tense expression, crossed arms, and red faces.

"Uh-oh. What did I walk into this time?" Over the last couple of days, several people witnessed Clarke's and Bellamy's combative attitude towards each other. Half-crazed by boredom and the need to rescue the 100, Clarke had slowly been irritating anyone within reach.

Bellamy just happened to be the idiot who choose to sit next to Clarke most of the time.

Several people offered to take his place, but Bellamy would dismiss them by saying that he needed to "collect information on the enemy" and couldn't leave.

Abby ended up ordering a sleeping pad for the young man since he refused to leave the room for anything except going to the bathroom.

Supposedly, he had spent the week discussing strategies, learning the layout of Mount Weather and planning infiltration methods with Clarke to create a report for the makeshift council.

Unfortunately, both adults spent more time arguing than coming up with a reliable plan. In Bellamy's defense, the arguments usually revolved around one of Clarke's half-formed plans to storm into Mount Weather and take the structure by force.

Apparently, Clarke's boredom led to rash and poorly constructed schemes.

Clarke and Bellamy glared at Raven before turning their glowers on each other.

"Bellamy shot down another plan. Apparently, he believes that willing the 100 to safety will work."

"No, I just don't think a suicidal plan is the way to go," Bellamy gritted.

"Can you just explain what the plan is?" interrupted Raven.

"I want to meet with the grounders leader." Raven's eyebrow rose in surprise.

"And why do you want to do that?"

"Because I can barter with them. We need to end this war with the grounders. Kane never returned. We have no idea if he met the grounders' leader or if he is dead. That means that grounders could be marching towards us now. If I met with them, we can make a treaty that can benefit us. They could help us save the 100 from Mount Weather."

"How do you expect to get to their commander?"

"Octavia is at the grounder village. I bet her relationship could bridge the gap." Raven silently gazed at Clarke. She seemed to be mulling the idea around in her head.

"It's actually not a bad idea."

"How the hell did you reach that conclusion?" Bellamy exclaimed.

"It makes sense if we want to live. We give them a proposal to join us. We offer to help them with their war against the reapers, give them medical advice, and then give them some weapons as a sign of peace. In exchange, they offer us a chance to rescue our people. They also know the land. That information could keep us alive. Especially, when the weather changes and we are scavenging for food." Raven eagerly exclaimed.

"If we don't end up in a trap."

"The grounders haven't refused to listen to us, Bellamy. And, you can take the necessary precautions and go with Clarke."

"See, Bellamy. This is what we need to get our people back," she exclaimed enthusiastically. Her blue eyes sparkled with unrestrained excitement

"Just because Raven agreed doesn't make it a good idea," lashed Bellamy.

"It's better than yours."

"I haven't made a plan yet. We don't have enough information." Clarke responded by giving him a hard look.

"Since when did you care about having all the facts, Blake?"

"Since the last time we fought with the grounders and I almost died, Princess," he retorted. Clarke stopped short looking hurt.

"Whatever, Bellamy. I don't need your permission, Bellamy." Clarke stormed out of the room. Bellamy closed his eyes tightly, and growled in frustration.

His right hand lightly rubbed his temple where an explosive headache lurked just under the surface.

Without opening his eyes, Bellamy grumbled, "Don't give me that look, Reyes."

"You're a dick." She retorted. Bellamy knew that his comment was underhanded.

Truth be told; Bellamy did not blame Clarke for shutting the doors on him and Finn. She made the choice to save their people. He did not fault her on a decision that he would probably have done himself.

"I'm using my head," he defended.

"No, you are clearly not. What's shocking though is that you are not thinking with your dick this time either." Bellamy opened one eye and shot a dark look at Raven.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Look Bellamy. I am not one of those dumb sluts that you banged when you got here. I might not know you as well as the others, but I know that you are worried about Clarke getting hurt. Or worse. That is the only reason you are trying to stop her from doing what's right." Bellamy opened his mouth to argue.

"I'm not done," she snapped sharply, "You need to figure your shit out quickly because we rely on you. If you don't support Clarke on this, then you are condemning the 100 to become blood bags for the Mountain Men. And if you don't let her create a treaty with the grounders, you are condemning us to be worm food. So shut up, or I swear to god that I will kill you myself," Raven ended.

"You done?" Bellamy asked sarcastically.

Raven gave Bellamy a condescending look and gestured for him to go on.

"It isn't just the fact that we are rushing into a dangerous situation. There are other things to consider. We will have to wait for Clarke to heal, plan for the opportunity, and create the terms for a peace treaty. On top of that, we don't even know if the council will allow it," stated Bellamy.

"They might not, but you aren't helping by whining like a brat about it. And if you don't try, we are equally screwed." Raven watched Bellamy think through her words.

"I should probably go apologize then."

"I would, if you don't want Clarke to kill you in your sleep," smirked Raven. Bellamy said a quiet thanks before leaving the room to find Clarke.

It took Bellamy an hour of searching to figure out where Clarke had hidden. She had wedged herself in a small closet. Using small tools, Clarke sketched shapes onto the floor.

When she heard the squeak of the rusting door, she quickly looked up in alarm. Her eyes narrowed into angry slits as they caught sight of Bellamy before she swiftly turned away from him.

Hesitantly, he took a small step into the room and let the door shut behind him.

Bellamy watched her tense body sitting stiffly on the floor. Her hand drug the little metal writing tool across the floor leaving dark, charcoal marks along the ground. He couldn't see what she was drawing, but could sense her fury in the sharp, jerking motions of her hand.

He wondered if approaching Clarke so soon was a good idea. Clearly, she wanted some alone time; otherwise, she would have gone back to the room that Dr. Abby Griffin assigned her.

No, I need to just get this over with, he thought. Nervously, Bellamy shuffled over.

"Clarke, I'm sorry." He said softly. She ignored him and continued to mark the floor. Her hand followed the same pattern over and over again.

Bellamy tried again. "Clarke, I didn't mean it."

"Evidently, you did."

"No, I said that out of anger."

"Leave me alone, Bellamy." Her voice sounded surprisingly rough. He knew that something was going on with her.

He grabbed her shoulder and tried to forcefully move her. She swung around furiously.

"Don't touch me!" She yelled. Bellamy looked in surprise as the faded light from a window highlighted her face. Two twin tracks of tears gathered in her eyes and raced down her face.

"Clarke," he breathed, "I'm sorry about what I said. I was acting like an ass because I couldn't get my way."

"We both know that isn't true," she whispered.

"Clarke, no one blames you. I would have ordered the doors to close too. You had to save our people," soothed Bellamy.

"No! You don't get to say that or do that. You have tried to make it seem like I was doing what was best, but the truth is that everything that happened was my fault. Our people getting kidnaped, you and Finn going missing, and the massacre at the village was all my doing."

"I will always remember it. They are dead because of me. They are all dead," she cried, "Finn isn't the murder; I am!"

"That's fucking bullshit! How can you even think that way?" Bellamy asked in anger and disbelief.

"If I wasn't here...-"

"We would have died the first week down on the ground," he snapped.

She continued as if she didn't hear Bellamy's words, "...Finn and Raven would be together, we would have never fought the grounders, the mountain men wouldn't have found the drop ship, our friends wouldn't be kidnapped, Finn never would have attacked the village, you wouldn't have-"

"Shut up, Clarke. These things are just as much my fault as yours. If you hadn't been on the ground, we would still be a bunch of delinquents killing each other off. You've made things better," he said, his eyes locked onto hers. Clarke felt her breath hitch as the intensity of his words hit her.

"I feel like I'm drowning, Bellamy. I just want it to stop," she wept. Without thought, Bellamy wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her soft body to his.

Clarke stiffened before relaxing into the hug. Her arms slowly moved around his waist. She dug her hands into his worn gray shirt, gripping at it in desperation. She needed this. She needed safety, and comfort, and the idea that she wasn't alone in this mess.

She buried her nose in the crook of his neck, and tried to relax, but she could feel the torrents of sadness overtake her. One tear dropped onto his shoulder, then another, until she couldn't contain the desperate sobs that poured from her.

Bellamy held onto Clarke as she cried, rubbing calming circles on her back. Soon, the breathless cries turned to quiet sniffles.

She didn't move out of his arms until she felt strong enough to sit by herself.

Embarrassed and refusing to make eye contact, Clarke murmured a small sorry. She shuffled back on her knees.

"Clarke… You don't have to apologize. We are in this together. You have people on your side," he said quietly, "If you let things pile up like this, you are going to be pretty much useless to us."

"I don't know how you manage so well." She used the sleeve of her shirt to roughly wipe away the wetness on her face.

Bellamy sighed, thinking of a way to explain it to her.

"I fake it. We can't let everyone know that we are feeling scared, or tired, or hungry. We can't let them know when we are out of options or have no choice but to give up. We have to be the strong ones. On the surface, you have to be strong, but when you are alone or with someone that you trust, let it go. Let out all your fears. That's the only thing that will keep you sane around here."

"Who do you talk to?" she asked curiously.

"The best listener of the group: Myself," he said with a smirk.

Clarke frowned at his answer. She could see through his joking persona and felt pity for Bellamy. At that moment, she was given a rare insight into the puzzle that was Bellamy Blake.

Despite the hardened exterior and don't-give-a-crap attitude, she realized that he was also straining under the weight of leadership. He was just as alone as she was; maybe more.

The only person that Bellamy had was Octavia, who was currently at the grounder village. But knowing Bellamy, Clarke would wager that he would never go to his younger sister for advice.

He was too protective of her. He would do anything for her. He would even shield her from his own fears.

"I'm a good listener, too," she stated nervously, "You can talk to me if you want."

He looked at her as if he was assessing her statement. He watched carefully as she nervously clasped and unclasped her hands together.

"I might take you up on that." He gave her a small smile, watching as she returned it with a sweet, little grin of her own.

Snapping back to reality, Bellamy knew that they had to work quickly if they wanted Clarke's plan to work. He might hate the idea, but he agreed that it might actually be their best option to save the teenagers from Mount Weather.

"Okay, Princess. No offense, but you look like a mess. If we are going to talk to the council you need to wash up, maybe try to fix your hair or something." Clarke's grin slipped off of her face and was replaced by an irritated scowl.

She huffed before standing up. "Just when I thought you could be nice," she murmured angrily.

Without another word, she left Bellamy in the closet still kneeling on the floor. He placed a hand on the hard, steel surface readying himself to stand up, but froze in place as he gazed at the ground.

The satisfied smirk slipped off of his face.

The floor was marked with strikingly, detailed lines. It looked like Clarke had spent days drawing and sketching the smallest of designs onto the floor, not the hour that she had disappeared.

Bellamy felt his chest clamp down as he absorbed the message from her drawings; fear, guilt, and anguish.

Several pictures stood out to him; he could see the small huddled form of Clarke clutching at her mother's shirt, as a man's body was sucked out of the Ark. His face held a little smile, but his eyes showed his fear of dying.

Another drawing displayed a naked Clarke. Her back was arched up in pleasure as Spacewalker covered her neck with kisses. His body shielded Clarke's nudity from peering eyes, but Bellamy knew what this drawing disclosed.

Bellamy's jaw clenched in frustration.

He knew that they had sex, but seeing it was a different matter. He gazed at Clarke's face a moment longer, taking in her tightly clenched eyes, her mouth forming a small "O", and the soft shape of her body peeking out from under Finn. He was so consumed with the image that he almost missed the slim form gazing at the two lovers brokenly.

Raven's face stared at them with so much hatred and hurt. Her eyes, usually mischievous and direct, were hidden in shadows. A darkly sketched tear ran down her cheek.

He tore his eyes away from the drawing that showed so much remorse.

The last depiction that caught his eye confused him.

All of Clarke's pictures held the same theme. They released all of her own self-abhorrence for her own actions.

She hated herself because of something that happened in the photos.

There were images of the 100, Murphy's hanging, Charlotte's death, Well's grave, the meeting at the bridge, but for some reason, this photo was different.

His hand reached and traced the drawing.

His fingers ran over his cheekbones, the relaxed set of his mouth, the darkly etched eyebrows, and closed eyelids. The Bellamy in Clarke's photo was shown in an innocent, peaceful manner as he slumbered with his head resting on a hospital bed.

Bellamy's thoughts became more scrambled as he tried to understand her message. What did she regret? Why did she draw me? He asked.

Puzzled and wary of the drawing, he stored his thoughts for later usage. He stood up and turned to leave, but paused looking back at the drawings. Using his boot, he roughly rubbed away any trace of the Finn/Clarke picture.

Part of him tried to rationalize it as protecting Clarke's body from unwanted eyes, but he knew that he personally just wanted to wipe away this memory of the Spacewalker pleasuring Clarke.

Bellamy left the room without another glance and ran to catch up with Clarke.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Feel free to leave any comments.**


	6. Chapter 6-Dispute

**A/N: Hi Everyone! Whew! I managed to post this on time even though the timing is a little tight. I could not do that without the support so I would like to thank everyone for reading, ****reviewing, and following this story. Seeing all the interest in this concept is wonderful. I would like to include more information than the usual disclaimer. I want to give fair warning that Resolution will follow the show very closely. Though I have branched away from the original plotline, my story will share spoilers from the show, throughout the seasons that the show will air. I love the show and want to keep the integrity of it. So with further ado... Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100. This story will contain graphic sex scenes, language, violence, and spoilers.**

Wrong Side of Heaven by Five Finger Death Punch

Arms wide open, I stand alone.  
I'm no hero, and I'm not made of Stone  
Right or wrong, I can hardly tell  
I'm on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell

Resolutions- Chapter 6 – Dispute

"So you are leaving?"

Clarke startled at the voice. Turning around, she faced Finn. Two weeks had passed since the attack on the village. Two weeks since she had looked at the boy that she used to love in the face.

He looks terrible, she thought. His hair had grown long and tangled. Dark bruises covered the skin under his eyes. His eyes once so warm and bright were dull pits of blackness. His body seemed thinner and frail.

"Are you sick?" she blurted out.

His soft, broken laugh filled the room.

"Always so blunt, Clarke."

"I'm serious, Finn. You look pale."

"I'm fine," he dismissed, "I just wanted to come over, and figure out what you are planning. We haven't talked, and then all of a sudden I'm hearing that you are going to meet the Grounder village." Clarke ignored the pained, hurt look on his face.

"We are."

"Who's we?" Clarke tensed.

"Just Bellamy and I."

"You are going with Bellamy? Alone," Finn sneered.

"My mom wanted to send an armed team, but it wouldn't help our case with the Grounders if we sent a large group of heavily armed guards." The fear in Finn's eyes grew as he realized the danger that Clarke was exposing herself to.

"Clarke, please don't go. You don't have to do this," he pleaded.

"Yes, I do. We are out of options."

"Why is this your responsibility? You don't have to lead anymore."

"You are wrong. The adults are still the same. They will consider the Ark before the 100. I need to be their voice."

"Are you going to give it up when you get the 100 back from the mountain men?" he asked stiltedly. His eyes looked searchingly.

Clarke hesitated before shaking her head.

"Then what's the point?" Finn exploded, "You are going to always put yourself at risk! You will never be safe because you are too _goddamn_ stubborn. Why can't you just let the adults do their job? Why can't you just _stop_?"

Clarke resisted the urge to step away from Finn as he ranted.

"Finn, I don't think the 100 will stay here." Finn looked up at her in surprise.

"What do you mean?" he queried.

"The adults will never treat the 100 like equals. Why would they want to give up their freedom to the adults when they were sent by them to the ground to die? I've heard how they are treating Raven, Bellamy, and Murphy; like criminals. I won't force the 100 to stay, and if they choose to leave, I will go too."

Finn stared at her blankly.

"Is it the 100 that you plan to follow or Bellamy?" Clarke shot Finn a confused look.

"What does that even mean, Finn?" She asked.

"It means that he hasn't left you alone for more than a handful of hours. When I tried to visit you when you were sick, Bellamy said that you couldn't have visitors. We were together, but he was the one that was allowed to stay with you. And let's be honest; it isn't just him. You were cleared more than a week ago, yet you haven't attempted to talk to me. You have spent nearly every waking moment with him."

"We are strategizing," Clarke said in shock.

"It isn't just that." He exclaimed.

"I swear it is. It's not like we are having sex in here; we talk about plans."

"Then, talk to me. You used to talk to me, but now you don't." He said, "I was always there for you. I can do that for you; be that for you. Clarke, I love you." His face was twisted and pleading.

"I don't know what you want me to say right now."

"Tell me that you still love me too." His hands grasped at her own.

"Things are different, Finn."

"Because of the village?"

"Because of you!" She screamed. Her frustration and anger simmered underneath the surface just begging to escape. She did not want to deal with this. There were many things that she needed to think about, but this was not one of them.

"I'm still the person that you fell in love," Finn said harshly.

"How can I even say that I loved you when I didn't know you? The village was bad, but there are so many things that I don't know about you. We have a past, but there are other things from your past that I don't know about."

"I can tell you about me. I can fix that."

"No! We crossed a line, Finn. When Raven came down, it made me realize that things are different. We used each other to feel safe. We felt alone and scared. You were my friend, and I cared about you, but I will never be able to get over the fact that you broke my heart and her heart. I cared about you and let you in, but when Raven came down you immediately tried to work things out with her."

"You told me to!"

"I shouldn't have had to! If you had loved me, then you wouldn't have made it into some choice. But you did, and I lost. That hurt so much. I only trusted you."

"Clarke, if I could take it back-"

"But you can't, so you have to stop trying. We can try being friends, but even that is going to take time."

Silence fell over the two teens as they watched each other. Finn's eyes pleaded with her to reconsider.

"Clarke, please," he whispered.

Staying strong, Clarke said, "I've got to finish packing." She turned around and began to grab her pack and continue to fill it.

"That's it then?" He said, anger tingeing his voice. Her hand stilled on the jar of grounded up herbs.

"That's it." Her heart hurt as she spoke her words determinedly. She heard the sharp release of breath from his lips.

"I'm not going to stop, Clarke. Just because you gave up, doesn't mean that I plan to."

She held her breath as the door slammed shut. Her chest clenched tightly. She placed her hand on her chest and lightly rubbed the painful spot. Her eyes pinpricked with tears. A soft sob released the pain in her chest and the moisture in her eyes. The salty tears streamed down her face in a torrent of emotion.

She wished that things could be different. She still loved Finn. In her mind, she saw the beautiful boy with the mischievous smile and kind words. The boy who dared her to be better; take risks.

The one that delicately brushed the soft blonde hair away from her cheek and left soft, sweet kisses on her pale lips. The one who gently stroked the palm of her hand, tracing the gentle dips and creases of her skin. The one who captured her body and pulled her so close that she felt like nothing could harm her.

Another sob broke free as she realized that the Finn that she thought she knew was a figment of her imagination. The true Finn was impulsive and careless. He had unintentionally stomped over her heart and smashed Raven's to pieces.

At that moment, she mourned for Finn. She mourned for the death of her fabricated Finn; her Finn that would never truly be hers again.

A knock snapped Clarke out of her dark spiral of thoughts. She roughly wiped away the thick barrage of tears.

Clearing her throat, she called out, "What is it?"

The squeak of the door signaled someone's entrance. Trying to fight the tears, Clarke said, "I'm packing. What do you need?"

She felt rather than heard the response. A warm hand laid gently on her shoulder. Clarke flinched away from the touch, but the hand was persistent in its search to comfort her.

Clarke slowly turned around, blinking back the tears.

Chocolate brown eyes stared at her sympathetically. Clarke opened her mouth to say something, but was immediately engulfed in a tight embrace.

"It's okay, Clarke. I heard it all," Raven whispered. Clarke felt her shoulders briefly slump in relief before stiffening. She took a step back and looked at Raven's relaxed face.

"How are you okay with this?" she said, "I'm not okay with it."

"I've talked to Finn before he got to you. That was one of the reasons that I headed down here. He explained why things went down the way they did. He told me that you never knew about me before I got here and that you tried to stop it from continuing."

"I did."

"I know, I know," she said with a sad smirk, "He tried to talk to me before, but I ignored him. I was so pissed, but now I wished that I had listened to him. I would not have been so bitter towards you. I wouldn't have been so angry at myself."

"Angry?"

"Yeah, angry. I felt like everything that happened with you and Finn was my fault. Like I could have prevented it."

Clarke opened her mouth to interrupt, but Raven barreled through louder, "I know what you are going to say. I know that it was Finn's fault. I believe it now, but I didn't then. I thought that if Finn hadn't landed on Earth in the dropship, he wouldn't have cheated on me. He wouldn't have met you. We would still be happy and together."

"Finn made his choices. I'm having a hard time with it too, but he did make them."

"I… Finn shouldn't have been sent down here. He didn't spacewalk the night they imprisoned him. I did." Clarke gawked at Raven's confession, "I was 18, and so, so stupid. I wanted to be a Zero-G mechanic, but I failed the health test."

She caught the concerned look from Clarke.

"Heart palpitations. Nothing serious, but the Ark decided that I wasn't worth the chance."

She took a deep breath before continuing, "It was my birthday. Finn knew what I wanted and made it happen. He made a deal with one of the guards. No one thought anything of it when I went down to the engineering bay. Even with Finn, we just cruised by the engineers with no problems."

She sniggered at the thought.

"Finn and I were laughing our asses off because of that. We thought we were so smart. We got to the doors with the biggest smile on our faces. Then, I went outside, Clarke. I did it. Because of Finn caring, I was able to experience it. I promise you, Clarke, that you will never see anything more beautiful. I once heard that when you went out there, all you hear is silence. It's just you, and your own thoughts."

"But, it is nothing like that. This will make me sound like a total sap for saying it, and I will completely deny it if you ever repeat this, but for once, I felt truly connected to the universe. The sounds, the sights; it was breath-taking. I would give up walking to go back to that first moment and relive it."

She trailed off lost in thought. Clarke shifted, anxious to hear the rest of the story. Raven looked up at her friend.

"That spacewalk was the only one that didn't leave me riddled with guilt."

"What happened?" Clarke asked.

"I had to go back in. Once I was in the Ark, I thought everything was alright, but after I had taken off my helmet, the alarm went off. Apparently, the door didn't seal properly. I couldn't breathe, Clarke. Finn had to manual open the doors into the Ark. That's why three months of oxygen was wasted. If he hadn't, I would have died," Raven said beseechingly. Her eyes pleaded for Clarke to understand.

Clarke wanted to say something to relieve the guilt that brewed in her Raven's eyes, but that was three months of oxygen wasted pointlessly. Raven and Finn had recklessly squandered one of the most coveted resources on the Ark. Would that oxygen have saved the three hundred that were sacrificed? Would it have saved the Ark?

When Raven realized that Clarke was going to remain silent, she said, "Manually overriding the system triggered the guards. They sealed us in like rats. Finn made the choice to take the suit and pretend that he was the one who went outside. I was eighteen. They would have floated me. He had a better chance to live, but they sent you to the earth before his case was reviewed."

"You're lucky that he was sent to the ground. With the oxygen levels failing, the council would have condemned and floated him." Clarke said severely.

Raven flinched away from the hard edge in Clarke's voice.

"I know. That's why I can't be mad that he ended up with you; that's why I was angry at myself."

Clarke opened her mouth again but stopped short to prevent the cruel words from spilling from her mouth.

"Wait, I thought you were a Zero-G mechanic when my mom found you."

"Karma bit me in the ass again. When I went back to work again, I found out that they approved me to go outside. If I had waited a day and a half, Finn never would have touched the earth," her voice dropped down to a rough whisper.

Clarke sighed, releasing some of the heaviness in her chest.

"Raven," she said, "You guys were stupid, but you shouldn't blame yourself and you still shouldn't give Finn a free pass. I know he saved your life, but you don't owe him everything. You have to let it go." She gently pulled Raven back into a hug.

It was time for everyone to move on. Clarke felt a sense of kindred with Raven. They had both felt hatred, jealousy, and sadness over the other's existence, but at the end of the day, they were both filled with the same pain, the same hurt, and the same guilt.

Pulling back, Clarke met the girl's eyes, blue to brown, "We've gone through so much shit, Finn won't even matter in a few weeks," she said.

Both Clarke and Raven shared a small smile.

"I actually had another reason to come her," Raven said.

"Yeah?"

"Yep. We are going to make you into the most badass looking princess that those Grounders won't know what hit them," she grinned.

Clarke felt a little bit of fear at the mischievous twinkle in the girl's eye.

"Should I be scared?" she asked doubtfully.

"Yes." She grabbed a few pots from a satchel attached to her hip.

"Just sit over there," she added.

"Before I sit, tell me what you are planning," she demanded.

"Jesus, Clarke. You would swear that I am about to torture you. It's just some paint and things." Clarke looked curiously at the jars again.

"Where did you get that?" she asked animatedly.

"Wick and I made it. Technically, paint is not our forte, but I figured it would be useful in this case. And yes, before you ask, you can have it when I am done." She smirked at the poorly restrained happiness in Clarke's eyes.

"And you need to put these on," she said, holding up dark clothes, "Then we will get started."

Clarke did as told, quietly letting Raven get started on her task. She quickly became consumed with transforming Clarke. She led Clarke to the stool and pushed her into it. Soon, her hands worked on smearing the paint on her exposed skin and pulling at her hair until she was satisfied.

An hour later, Clarke's was finally released from what she considered Hell. Her hair follicles ached, and her skin itched from the drying paint.

"Do you want to see it?" Raven said gleefully.

"No." Clarke tried to walk away from Raven and over to her still partially loaded pack. Raven stopped her.

"This is not a choice," she glared.

"Why did you even ask then?" muttered Clarke petulantly. She allowed Raven to steer her over to one of the reflective walls.

What she saw made her stop grumblingly instantly. She flinched away from the mirror before coming in close.

The girl in the mirror was another person. The clothing of her shirt left her exposed. The cloth covered the upper part of her stomach and her chest before looping across her shoulders and creating a crisscross pattern down her back. Openings in the material showed most of the skin from her sides, as well as her midriff and back.

The rest of the clothing was simple. A pair of black pants clung to her legs. The hem of the pants disappeared into a pair of dark hiking boots.

The boots were surprisingly light and flexible. The leather of the boots bent with her skin but seemed sturdy enough that the material would not easily be pierced. Clarke really wanted to ask Raven where she got the boots, but was too stunned by what Raven had done to her.

Raven had twisted her golden hair was into intricate braids. She spent time collecting the soft hair, smoothing the tangles out with her fingers, and creating two large side braids that pulled all of her hair away from her face. The braids fell loosely into a pile of curls. She weaved smaller braids into the curls allowing them to freely brush against the bare skin of her back. A few smaller feathers were tied at the end of the braids with thin leather straps. The soft quills tickled her skin.

The paint had been used to decorate her skin. Despite not being an artist, Raven's steady engineer hands had managed to create detailed swirls and lines down her back, sides, and arms. Deep purple mixed with sapphire blue, while bright lines of shimmering gold danced around her navel and curled around her body up to the nape of her neck.

Raven used charcoal black paint and a small stick to rim the top of her eyelids. The blue of her eyes seemed eerie against the darker color. Two inch lines of red, blue, and black paint on her left cheek.

The girl, no, the woman, looking at her reflection stood tall and regal. Her beauty was exotic and powerful.

She looked at Raven's smirking reflection.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"No problem. Just finish up with your bag. And now that I'm thinking about it, I should probably escort you. You kind of look like a Grounder in that getup. Wouldn't want someone to shoot you." Clarke stepped back carefully from the reflective surface.

"I just need to throw in a few things," she replied. She carefully wrapped the jars in an extra shirt and pants to keep them still in her pack. She put them inside of the gray bag. Quickly, she grabbed a small bag of nuts, mushrooms, and jerky, her canteen, and her smaller knife. Bellamy had reluctantly agreed with her when she decided that they shouldn't bring anything larger than what could be concealed.

Bellamy loudly voiced his contempt over the choice, stating that it was dangerous to go into the forest without a gun, but conceded when Clarke mentioned the previous visit to the Grounder's village.

Clarke sealed the bag with a leather tie and followed Raven out of the room that she had stayed in for the last couple of weeks.

The pair passed several guards. Clarke could feel their wary stares as they took in her appearance. Clarke couldn't help let a little smile slip through as she took in their crossed arms and frowns. If the people from the Ark were acting this way, she wondered what the Grounders would think.

Raven stopped to talk to one of the younger soldiers near the door, before returning to Clarke.

"Bellamy is in his tent with Murphy. We should just head over there."

Clarke followed Raven as she walked. Unable to stop herself, Clarke asked, "What's up with that?" Raven looked at her in confusion.

"Murphy," she clarified shortly.

"He's not that bad," Raven said hesitantly.

"He shot you! He tried to murder Bellamy. He did kill Connor and Myles."

"I don't think I can say anything that will make sense, but Bellamy decided that he was more usefully to us alive."

"He let Finn murder those people."

"Clarke, you said it yourself; Finn made his own choices. Murphy was just the person next to him."

"I don't trust him."

"I don't think any of us fully trust him, but I know you trust Bellamy. If Bellamy believes that he can be reformed, maybe you should give him a chance," She stopped outside of a small tent and said, "I will let you meet with Bellamy alone. I'm supposed to work with Wick to repair some signal."

Clarke quickly ducked through the flaps of the tent, calling out Bellamy's name. The masculine voices that filled the small space instantly stopped as she entered the space.

"Holy Hell!" cried Murphy, breaking the silence as he caught sight of the blonde leader. Clarke looked up in alarm to see the two men gawking at her. Clarke shifted uncomfortably under the surprised and piercing stares.

Clarke could see Bellamy's mouth open and shut.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Bellamy barked. Clarke bristled under his harsh tone.

"Raven helped me out," she said defensively, "She thought that looking the part might help when we talk to the leader."

"What part? You look-"

"Hot," interjected Murphy. His eyes scanned Clarke from head to toe.

"Murphy," Bellamy growled.

"What? I'm giving a compliment."

"Leave," he snarled. Murphy looked back one final time at Clarke, sighed, then quietly left the tent. Bellamy followed him and checked outside the tent before swinging around towards Clarke.

"This is idiotic," he said, gesturing towards her body.

"Thanks," she said mockingly," tell me what you really think." She crossed her arms angrily.

"You look like Grounder bait."

"I was being sarcastic. I really don't want to hear what you have to say."

"I'm not taking you out there while you look like that," he said. Clarke smirked in response.

"What are you so worried about, Bellamy?" She took a step closer to him, invading his space. She watched as his eyes glanced quickly downward before meeting her eyes again.

"You aren't exactly in fighting shape, Clarke. That thing isn't going to offer you any protection," he sneered.

"It's a good thing that this isn't going to end up a fight. The meeting is about diplomacy."

"I know that, but I think you are going into this too optimistically. Something might happen."

"I get it, Bellamy. I know what you are saying, but I think that if the Grounders see us as Grounders, then negotiations between our people will be easier. I'm keeping the outfit."

Bellamy shook his head in disgust.

"I'm ready to go. Are you packed up?" Clarke asked.

"Yeah," he answered. He walked over to a corner of the room and roughly grabbed his large tan bag. He slung it over his shoulder. Holding the flap of the tent open, he gestured for her to continue.

"After you, Princess."

* * *

**A/N: Feel free to leave a review. I am extremely needy thing and constantly need reassurance to keep writing. Just kidding...mostly.  
****Happy Holidays!**


	7. Chapter 7-Pressed

**A/N: Hi Everyone. Long time, no see. I have finally been able to post this. I was in between moves with no internet so expect a faster update between this chapter and the next one. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100 or the storyline. Resolution is M for language, sex, and violence. Spoilers will be featured.**

Move Along by All-American Rejects

When all you've got to keep is strong  
Move along, move along like I know you do  
And even when your hope is gone  
Move along, move along just to make it through

Resolutions- Chapter 7- Pressed

Bellamy watched Clarke as she walked across the forest. Despite looking like a grounder, she clearly did not gain their quietness. Her boots crunched on the leaves, snapping sticks and scattering stones.

He already attempted to quiet his co-leader, but she just glared back at him when he said something.

Another crack echoed. Bellamy glared at the back of her head, "Clarke, you have to be quieter. You are going to draw way too much attention to us."

He watched as she stumbled. Her hand clumsily clutched at a branch, stopping her uncoordinated descent to the hard-packed dirt. Bellamy observed as the soft tendrils of her hair swished over her shoulders. The feathers danced over her skin, spinning in the light breeze. His eyes followed the trail of soft curls down her back.

"Will you stop distracting me?" she yelled over her shoulder.

Bellamy bit back the retort that was begging to escape his mouth. He stared steely at her as she tripped again.

He was so frustrated with her.

He hated that she managed to find every loud stick to step on, every small rock to stumble on, and more importantly, he hated how beguiling she looked while crashing through the forest.

He had spent a majority of the day avoiding making eye-contact with her, but knew that the image of her entering his tent would not leave his mind quickly. Even now, he could see the slender, toned legs in her dark pants and her back, soft and smooth, decorated with different shapes and swirls.

He mentally berated himself. He couldn't think about her like that. He couldn't allow himself to agree with Murphy's comment. But, disagreeing with his "hot" comment was a losing battle.

On the ground, there were no luxuries. The "kill or be killed" rules of the jungle became ingrained in the survivors from the Ark.

Bellamy quickly learned that he needed to enjoy as much time as he could. With the acid fog, dangerous creatures, and the Grounders, the 100 learned that they had to live each moment like that day could be the last.

Bellamy found ways to relax and enjoy the moment. Carnal pleasure seemed to be the simplest way. At those times, Bellamy enjoyed the sweet satisfaction of the females at camp. It was all about the gratification of release. He took what he wanted and left the women just satisfied enough to boast and brag about their conquest of Bellamy.

But Clarke was different. When he first saw her in the tent, he didn't want to pull her close, fuck her, and discard her like he did the others.

He wanted to explore and conquer her. He wanted to touch the soft, supple flesh of her arm, worship her sweet skin, and feel her heat as he wrapped himself around her. He wanted her. Badly.

As he thought, he knew that this wasn't the first time that he had thought of his co-leader like that.

He knew that he was sexually attracted to Clarke; he knew as soon as she told him that the only way the Ark would think she was dead was if she was dead. Her bravery and her stubbornness were so unlike the other girls at camp. It ensnared him.

But, nothing would happen with her. There was too much at stake to have a fling with her.

He watched her stumble again. This time, her hands flew forward catching herself. He groaned as he saw that she had fallen in such a perfect way that her rear stuck up straight towards the sky.

God damn, he thought as he dragged his eyes away from the sight in front of him. He was slowly losing his mind over her, and it was frustrating him to no end that she had this power over him.

"Jesus, Clarke. What the hell is wrong with you?" He called out, letting his temper get away from him.

Clarke whipped her head around angrily. Her striking blue eyes glared daggers at him.

"I'm trying. I just keep tripping."

"That isn't good enough. Something is going on. You are never like this." Clarke opened her mouth, but Bellamy interrupted her, "Seriously, Clarke. If you don't let me know what's wrong, you could put us in more danger."

Clarke stared at him. Trepidation cloaked her true feelings.

"Fine," she declared, "I'm in pain."

"Is it your side?" Bellamy stepped closer to her.

"No."

"Then what is it?" Bellamy asked impatiently. He had stepped in front of her and was now watching her with all of his attention.

"It's my…" she trailed off, mumbling the rest too quietly for Bellamy to hear.

"What?" he asked loudly.

"I… My feet are really hurting." Bellamy looked at her in disbelief. "These damn boots are new. They are cutting up my feet."

Bellamy froze before lowering his eyes from her face, down to her neck, quickly across her chest and stomach until they gazed at the dark boots.

His eyes darted between her face and those boots before bursting out into laughter. His deep bellowing chortle reverberated around them. Bellamy tried to stop, but one look at Clarke's face caused him to laugh louder. He could see her flushed cheeks and her eyes narrowed in contempt.

He bent forward, resting his hands on his knees until he felt like he could calm down just enough to talk to her.

Still chuckling, Bellamy clarified what Clarke told him, "So… you can't walk… because your boots... are new." He broke down again.

"Shut up, Bellamy," she growled. He leaned back grinning up at the sky at the irony of the situation. He shook his head slightly before looking at her annoyed face.

"Are you pouting?" He asked in amusement.

"No," Her pout pulled into a deep frown.

"You know you deserve this, Princess. I told you not to wear the damn outfit, but you didn't listen to me. Now, your feet hurt because you decided to wear new boots."

"You don't have to tell me that. I already know," Clarke said miserably.

"Really? Because I told you the first time, and you still decided to ignore me despite the fact that you look ridiculous," he said. Clarke shot him an angry look.

"You asked me to tell you; I did. Let's stop talking about it and keep going."

"How? You are making so much noise that we are going to alert every grounder in the area that we are here and ready to die," he responded cynically.

Clarke huffed in frustration and determinedly spun away from him. Her foot managed to catch on a fallen tree branch causing her body to lurch forward.

He quickly reached out for her. Grasping her wrist, he pulled her back upright. His hand stayed on her arm as he said, "Easy, Princess. Someone might get the wrong impression."

His eyes stared heavily at her. Her big, cerulean-colored eyes widened as she stared into his.

"And what impression would that be?" she asked quietly.

"That you are so overcome by my presence that you can barely stand?" He gave her a dimply smirk before letting go of her arm.

She faltered slightly before steadying herself. If looks could kill, Bellamy would have died, come back to life, and then died again.

"No one would think that, Bellamy. Let's go."

The rest of the afternoon was spent in silence as they hiked the now-familiar path to the village. Clarke tried to maneuver quietly, but he could see her occasionally trip. Her face would scrunch up in a pained grimace.

At one point, she stopped and pulled off her boot and sock. Bellamy internally winced as she uncovered her foot. Inflamed blisters covered the spots where skin rubbed against the hardened leather of the shoe.

He stopped and looked away as she took the time to bind her foot with a white linen bandage, cover it with a sock, and reluctantly pull the shoe back on.

"You good?" he asked her as she slowly rose up.

"I might be regretting the boots," she said dejectedly, "I need a distraction." Bellamy looked at her warily.

"And how can I help you with that, Princess."

"The other night you said that you would talk to me more. Co-leader to co-leader," she clarified.

"I'm not doing that now." He began to walk away from her.

"Just one thing," she said with a small smile.

He gave her a hard look and rolled his eyes. For once, she wasn't acting like an uptight control freak. He could at least reward her for letting go a little.

"Fine. One thing."

"What's the limit?"

Bellamy stopped and thought about his answer.

"Nothing about my family," he replied roughly.

Clarke frowned and walked forward silently as she considered which question to ask Bellamy.

Bellamy followed waiting for her response. He could practically hear the cogs in her head thinking through the most practical answer.

"I want to know about your life on the Ark."

Bellamy blanched, "That isn't exactly one thing."

"That's my choice."

"Fine, but I will stop when I want to," he said to her firmly. He tried to ignore the pleased look on her face.

"Fine. First, tell me where you lived?" Bellamy rolled his eyes at her persistence.

"I lived in the Factory Station," He began slowly. "There isn't much to say other than the fact that it was a miserable experience. I lived in a single room that I shared with my mom, and later, Octavia."

He could see that Clarke's attention was fully on him. He frowned at the dangerous implications of her getting distracted.

"You can't just focus on listening," he reprimanded, "I can't talk to you if it makes us vulnerable."

She mumbled a quick apology and diverted her attention back to monitoring their surroundings.

He continued where he had stopped, "One of the things about the Factory Station is that almost everyone was cold and hungry. We were fed the bare minimum to survive, and because the station's location is the farthest from the core of the Ark, temperatures would drop severely. My dad had died from exposure to the cold before Octavia's birth."

Clarke looked over at him quickly. Her sympathetic eyes met his before he pulled away from her.

"I don't need your pity, Clarke. It honestly doesn't upset me. He died in an accident. I don't remember very much about him, so it doesn't matter now. That's all I am going to say about that. The only thing that really upsets me about his death was that it made things hard for my mom. My mom was a seamstress who could barely make ends meet. Tack on Octavia, and you can imagine how interesting things got."

"We survived. I helped when I could, and things were fine for a while. I finished school, began to train as a guard, and helped my mom out more. I actually enjoyed training. I hated the Ark. It always felt like a prison. In the Factory Station, I couldn't move as much as I needed. When I became a guard, I had full access to the other stations and the workout facilities in the Alpha station." He smiled slightly, but it slipped into a deep frown.

"After they found Octavia, I lost everything. They imprisoned O, floated my mom, and isolated me from my former life. They never let me even see Octavia. I had no idea how she was or if she was scared."

"She didn't have the worst situation," Clarke finally interrupted.

"That doesn't make it better."

"Trust me it does. If you knew what happened in the Sky Box, then you would know how good she had it on the Ark."

"It doesn't matter that she had it 'good.' The council and their foolish rules stole my family away from me. They imprisoned my sister who had no choice in the fact that she was born, they killed my mom because she didn't want to kill her daughter, and they destroyed my life, although all I did was protect my sister. And you know what Clarke, part of me pathetically blames Octavia for most of it even though I should blame myself."

Clarke carefully chose her words. Her brows were furrowed as she thought.

"I know you love, Octavia," she finally answered.

"It isn't a question about if I do or don't love my sister. I do. But, I also lost my mom. Although I would give my life for O, there are things that you don't forget."

After several minutes of tense silence, Clarke spoke up, "I don't know what to say. I know what the Ark did was wrong, I know what my parents did was wrong."

She stared at the ground sadly, "I guess that's why I won't stop trying to save the 100. I feel responsible for my mom's choices. I feel like I need to repent for their mistakes, starting with the fact that they condemned the 100 to the ground and Mount Weather. I think that the council's need for survival created a broken system. They killed people to save the entirety of the Ark, and sacrificed individuals without thought. We can't let them recreate that here."

"How would you stop it from happening?" Bellamy asked.

"I don't know if I can. Even with my mom's help, there will always be problems. I've been thinking about some things. Before we left, Finn asked if I would give up my leadership role. I don't know what you are thinking about doing when we get our people back, but I can't do it." Bellamy looked at her in surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want to subject myself to the Ark's rules. You probably didn't know, but it was my birthday last week. I'm eighteen now and an adult. If we were on the Ark and not on Earth, I would be dead right now. And there are things that happened in the Sky Box that can never be erased. Why would I want to go back to the people that would have killed me?"

"You want to leave," he slowly questioned, "And here I thought you liked the structure of Camp Jaha, Princess," Bellamy said.

"I'm not a Princess, Bellamy. I don't know what you think you know about me, but things on the Ark weren't wonderful. I didn't get any special treatment because of my mom's place on the council," she laughed sardonically, "God…I used to despise when you called me Princess in the beginning; as if I was privileged when in my life has been nothing like that."

Bellamy opened his mouth to disagree. He wanted to argue with her, question her. How could she know the same hardships? She lived with two parents. They fed and clothed her. She didn't suffer like the other members of the Ark. He bit down on his cheek to keep himself from saying anything. Luckily, she didn't notice his resentment towards her parents' position on the Ark.

"I couldn't meet with the other 'inmates.' They didn't want the information about the Ark's failing system to get out, so they threw me in a room and locked away the key. The only person who was allowed to visit me once a month was my mom."

"For ten months, I only saw my mom and the guards. She wouldn't say anything. She would just bring me a piece of charcoal or something to draw with and then leave. I used to think that she blamed me for killing dad, but I guess it was the guilt that kept her from talking to me. The last month, I didn't even see her until they were pulling the 100 out of their cells for the Dropship."

Bellamy listened without interrupting her.

"I know that you think that I am a spoiled brat that had everything handed to me, but I've had to fight to live. I meant what I said about Octavia having it good. She was young and overlooked by the guards. Not all of us had that luxury."

Bellamy looked at Clarke horrified by what she was suggesting.

"Did they-"

"No. Not me. But I heard them bragging about other conquests. I dealt with the taunts and suggestions. One guard made the mistake of trying, but I stopped it. I wasn't going to let them take that from me," Bellamy could see the pain and anger in her voice.

"The point is that I'm going to keep fighting until I'm dead. I am tired of letting other people decide my fate when I am capable of doing it myself. I won't let the Ark ever be in control of my life, and I won't let them do that to the 100."

Clarke looked at Bellamy's stony glare. She waited for a response but was met with silence.

"I'm not trying to make you feel pity or anything; I just want to know where your head is at with this. I will do it alone if I have to, but I would rather know that you are on my side," she finished awkwardly.

"I am. I guess I just didn't expect this from you."

"Why?" she questioned.

"Well, for one, I figured that you would stay where it is safe with your mom. Secondly, I am surprised that you choose to share any of this with me," he murmured hesitantly.

"Personally, a lot of things have changed since we crashed on Earth," she responded. "With my mom, I decided that though I might not hate her like I did before, I am still coping with the fact that she murdered my dad and imprisoned me. She did that for the sake of the Ark. I love her, but I don't know if she would choose me or the Ark. I have to be with people I trust. In this case, I trust you. I know that we hated each other, but I think of you as more."

Bellamy felt stunned by her open confession. Clarke glanced over at her companion and laughed at the expression on his face.

"Don't read into it too much. I just want you to know that over the last few weeks, I feel like that not only can I trust you and share things with you, but I can consider you a friend. I need that right now. I think we both do."

Bellamy avoided eye-contact with Clarke. Her words were weighted with a heaviness. How do you answer something like that? If he stayed quiet, it would be like he was rejecting her.

He looked up at her eyes that implored him to speak. He could see the vulnerability shining in those cobalt-blue eyes.

"Jeez, Clarke. You can't get soft on me right when we are heading into the hornet's nest," he answered nervously. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

He watched as her face fell from his response. He felt a swell of guilt at upsetting Clarke when she was clearly asking for something more than what he gave her.

"I've got your back," he said. He tried to convey as much as he could in those four words. He couldn't exactly say it as easily as she did, but he knew that he would protect and support her.

The returning smile that he got back was worth the discomfort from sharing with her. The rest of the day was spent in a comfortable silence. By sundown, the two had reached the edge of the village.

Clarke looked at Bellamy nervously.

"We didn't think about this." She said. The two had promptly realized that they didn't know how to approach the village.

"How did we not think about this before?" He asked angrily.

"Priorities," she replied sharply, "We have no choice but to go down."

"It is too dangerous. They will see as a threat."

"What is your suggestion then?"

While they debated, they did not realize that someone had slowly approached them. The rustling of the leaves in the wind and the dusky light covered the noise of a grounder navigating its way through the brush. Delicately, the grounder slipped out one of the sharp daggers tethered to its calf and charged towards Bellamy taking the two leaders by surprise.

The small Grounder launched at Bellamy and quickly slid the small knife to his neck.

Bellamy's heart thudded in his chest. How could he have been so stupid?

Clarke carefully held her hands up in a sign of peace and began to negotiate with the Grounder.

"We need to talk to Nyko," she pleaded quietly. The Grounder shifted and loosened his grip around Bellamy's neck, but kept the sharp knife in place. The dagger sat precariously near his neck, but it was no longer digging into his throat.

"Thank you. We promise we won't hurt anyone," Clarke said. The grounder gave a throaty laugh. He leaned closer towards Bellamy and whispered, "Hey, Big Brother."

Bellamy froze at the feminine voice and quickly turned around, ignoring the sharp edge of the knife nicking his chin. As he caught sight of his little sister, Bellamy felt relief gather in the pit of his stomach.

"O," he murmured, "God, it's good to see you." He scooped her up into a huge hug. She quickly pushed away from Bellamy's tight grip, leaving him feeling confused and hurt.

"What are you doing here, Bel?" She asked.

"We need to talk to Nyko."

"No, we need to get you out of here."

"Wait, we aren't leaving Octavia. We have to talk to him," Clarke interjected. Octavia looked over Bellamy's shoulder. Her eyes widened at Clarke's appearance before narrowing into a look of pure contempt.

"You look different, Clarke," she said indifferently. "You can't talk to the Grounders. They don't want to speak with any of the sky people; especially you, Clarke." Bellamy tensed at the animosity coming from his sister.

"Why don't they want to see her?" Bellamy asked.

"She brought Finn here."

"They blame her for Finn?"

"Yes."

"I didn't send out an order for him to attack the village. I didn't even know that he was on his way here until it was too late. You know that."

He could see the emotional turmoil appear in Clarke's eyes. Despite the fact that Clarke was defending herself, he knew that she didn't believe that she was innocent. Octavia's anger just cemented the fact that she was guilty.

"You didn't have to, Clarke," she sneered.

"Octavia, stop," Bellamy barked. Octavia turned her fury on Bellamy.

"Don't defend her," she replied viciously.

"What is wrong with you, O," he asked in disbelief, "Clarke had nothing to do with the attack. Now, something is going on that we don't know about. You need to tell me."

He watched her carefully waiting for the impact of his words come over her. The angry façade faded, and tears sprung to her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Clarke," she said pitifully, "There are things that I can't tell you. Maybe Indra can, but I'm forbidden to share it with you."

"What can you tell us?" interjected Bellamy.

"Not much. I've learned a lot in these last few weeks but sharing that information would be considered treason."

"How is it considered treacherous?" Bellamy said incredulously.

"They adopted me into their tribe so…" she trailed off.

"So don't ask," finished Bellamy.

"Yeah, I guess I can tell you that the women are leaders in the tribe whilst the men are the warriors. That is pretty much common knowledge."

"That sounds about right. Women as the brains of the operations; men as the grunts," said Clarke teasingly. Bellamy shot her a dead-panned expression but secretly felt relief at her light-hearted banter.

Octavia glanced between the two co-leaders. Something seemed different from before. They were both less angst-ridden, she decided. Clarke's easy teasing and Bellamy's defense over Clarke immediately tipped off the younger Blake sibling.

She assessed them both again. Internally shrugging, she dismissed the thought.

"I will take you to Indra but you have to listen to me. She would slit your throats for the sake of entertainment. One wrong move could leave you two dead."

"What do we need to do then?" Bellamy questioned.

"You can't talk, Bellamy, at all. Men are not respected as leaders or speakers. If they knew that you were co-leaders that would be it; the slim chance that they would listen to Clarke would disappear."

Bellamy frowned. He opened his mouth to argue, but stopped.

"Fine. What else?" he barked.

"Avoid eye-contact with Indra. It's disrespectful towards a leader," addressing Clarke explicitly, she added, "Only answer her questions and answer them honestly."

Clarke nodded her head in agreement.

"That's it. Just don't forget it."

Taking a deep breath, she motioned for Bellamy and Clarke to follow. She walked out of the tree line and down the hill. Bellamy fell behind Clarke, silently shadowing her. His gaze stayed on Clarke.

He did not like the situation. They had no plan of escape and were probably outnumbered. He also felt unsure and angry over the fact that he would be quiet during the meeting.

He did not resent the fact that Clarke would take over any exchanges in the meeting with the Grounders, but he felt out of control at this complete and total exchange of power. He would have to willing keep quiet as Clarke bartered for their safety which was never Bellamy's strong point.

When they walked through the village, Bellamy and Clarke heard the reactions of the Grounders. Fearful voices rang out. Tension filled both of the co-leaders as they heard the Grounders speaking rapidly in a foreign language.

Octavia reached out and grabbed Clarke's arm forcing her to stop. They stood stalk still, waiting for something to happen. Bellamy had to stop himself from shifting nervously.

All the voices stopped. Bellamy could sense that they were being watched, but the Grounders did not attack.

A women shouted out in a harsh, deep tone. Bellamy could see Clarke flinch at the sudden noise. The women continued to speak.

"Ripa en ai gonplei gona. Gona drien!"

Bellamy recoiled as Octavia's voice rang out, "Hod op. Nowe ripa. Finn ripa. Clarke fisa ai gona." He broke his promise to keep his eyes downward. He looked in amazement at his sister. Her face held a calm composure and her eyes burned with determination.

She spoke Grounder.

When did she have time to learn their language? She had spent a small amount of time in the village, and though he knew Octavia held an intelligence that people often forgot, he did not expect her to be able to learn the Grounder's native tongue.

"Shof op, Okteivia. Yu no en gon tu yus. Yu kom Skairku."

"No! Ai laik Trigedakru," she replied. Indra gave Octavia a hard look. Her hand clamped down on the handle of her sword. Bellamy felt an icy bolt shoot through him as he realized the danger that Octavia was in. He had thoughtlessly and willingly thrown her into the lion's den.

The women stormed forward aggressively, "Jus drein jus daun!"

Octavia stood her ground. Her scowl turned deadly, "Mindr Broder. No Gonplei bakn Tatrus Lexa choinrus."

The woman seethed before her. Her hand clenched tightly on the dark blade. Bellamy tried to avoid looking the ebony skinned women in the eyes, but the compulsion to look became too strong. His eyes darted at the woman's face and saw something strange.

Though her face, with the swirling tattoos and scars, seemed rigid and hard, her eyes were brightly lit. Humor gleamed in them.

"Ai na Lexa," facing towards Clarke and Bellamy, she said, "Taim yu drag raun, taim yu ge ban au."

Clarke had managed to keep her eyes towards the mud, so she did not realize that the Grounder was speaking to her. Bellamy nudged her with his left hand, gaining her attention. She met the women's eyes for a brief moment.

The grounder spoke in their native tongue, "I will take you to the Commander. If you fall behind, you get left behind."

Without another word, she left the center of the village, disappearing into a wooden shack.

Bellamy watched Octavia warily, waiting for a sign that everything was okay.

It was a strange position for Bellamy to be in. Throughout their lives, he was the leader always keeping her safe. Now, he searched for her insight.

* * *

**A/N: Feel free to leave reviews!**


	8. Chapter 8-Antebellum

**A/N: Enjoy Everyone! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100. The story is rated M for adult themes and will feature spoilers. **

Impossible by James Arthur

I remember years ago  
Someone told me I should take  
Caution when it comes to love  
I did

Resolutions- Chapter 8- Antebellum

Octavia gave Bellamy a small smile.

"Good news," she said, "You haven't died. Bad news, there is still time for that." She swung a balled fist at his shoulder, lightly striking the thick muscles that reside there.

"Okay, Bell. You guys look like shit," she said tactlessly, "I have a place for you to rest. It will take a few days before we leave." Bellamy began to argue on the timeline but stopped as he watched Clarke sway on her feet.

The stress and exhaustion, as well as the pain from the trip, had caught up with her. He huffed slightly before nodding in agreement. He knew that he also needed time to repose. Though it would be difficult with their present company, he needed to be calm and focused.

Octavia led her brother and Clarke towards a small hut. It looked poorly constructed and partially caved in, but Octavia seemed proud of the small, dilapidated structure. The wooden slats were tethered together with thin vines. Each plant weaved between the other planks, creating a strong base for the house.

Clarke carefully inspected the creation. She knew that if they survived and rescued the 100, the first step would be to create winterized homes at the Dropship. They would need to build sturdier cabins than this home, but Clarke carefully remembered the materials that were used in its construction.

Octavia opened the door and showed them inside the space.

"You shouldn't leave this house while you are here, Bel. The people are scared of you. You know what happens when people are hurt and angry."

She gave him a sharp look. An image of Murphy suffocating from a rope around his neck filled his mind.

"We will stay here," he quickly confirmed. As he said that, he finally looked around the space. The room held two pieces of furniture. On one side of the room, a large bed sat low to the floor. Animal skins covered a mattress made of dried leaves. A small wooden table with books, a few lit candles, and two sharpened writing tools rested on the adjacent wall.

Bellamy looked around the room questioningly, "Whose house is this?"

A look of sadness crossed his sister's face. He instantly knew that he stood in Lincoln's house.

"Never mind," he muttered. He longed to stop O's pain, but he knew that it was useless. He would be inconsolable if he lost her or someone equal important.

Like Clarke, his mind supplied unwillingly. He steeled himself against the idiotic thought. Though he liked Clarke and respected her, Octavia's pain would be different than his. She loved Lincoln. Bellamy just didn't want to be in charge alone.

It was funny how things had changed between the two of them. Initially, Bellamy hated Clarke's attempt to lead. It felt like her moral compass was leading the 100 down a dangerous path. She couldn't get the big picture.

Over time, he had respected her wisdom and maturity. He wished that she could balance those feelings, but appreciated her sensibility when things were rough.

As he thought about his female partner, he realized that they would be staying in the small hut by themselves. For days. With only one bed.

A string of expletives threatened to escape, but he managed to maintain the outward appearance that he wasn't bothered by the turn of events. Thinking optimistically, he knew that this was actually the best case scenario.

He didn't trust the Grounders. They had buried too many of the 100 for him to ever think that he would be comfortable with these people. At the very least, having Clarke in his sight might give him a little bit of comfort.

"Do you still have any food or water?" Octavia asked.

Clarke and Bellamy both nodded.

"Not much though," Clarke solemnly answered.

"Tomorrow, I will get something for you guys. With all the tension, I don't want to give anyone the chance to sneak something in it. I have my own place for the night so I will be there. I will check in on you guys tomorrow morning."

Bellamy felt his control slip a little more as he began to understand just how much Octavia had grown. She seemed level-headed and thoughtful. It was a complete one-eighty from when they had landed on Earth in the Dropship.

He watched her turn to leave for the night.

"Wait a second, Octavia. You have a lot to explain to us," Bellamy exclaimed. Clarke watched the two Blake siblings with her sharp, inquisitive eyes.

"Bel, I can't tonight. I have to meet with Indra and find out what is going on."

"Why would they include you? What did you say to her?"

"There is a lot that you don't understand. I can't explain tonight. I'm sorry."

Quickly, she slipped out the door, letting it slam shut behind her. Bellamy growled in frustration and threw his hands in the air. Clarke opened her mouth to say something, but let it go. The situation between Octavia and Bellamy wasn't any of her business.

She walked over to a corner of the bed and sat down. She leaned over, unlaced the shoe, and slowly peeled off her boots. She wiggled her toes and sighed in relief as the throbbing began to lessen gradually. She dramatically threw herself back into the bed.

Bellamy eyed her warily. He did not need the visuals of Clarke lounging in the bed.

"You can have the bed," he said hastily. Clarke sat up and frowned at him.

"You don't have to. Do you see the size of this bed? It's huge."

Bellamy's mind went straight to the gutter with her thoughtful words. A barrage of images flooded his mind. In his defense, his libido had not been soothed in quite a while.

"That's okay," he said shortly.

"Look, Bellamy. I'm not going to insist, but your other option is the floor. I know you enough that if you do choose there, you will barely sleep. It's pretty obvious that I need you healthy, not exhausted. As long as you keep your hands to yourself, it's fine if you sleep in the bed."

Bellamy's eyes darted between the bed and the dirt floor.

Choosing his usual brand of snarky, he said, "Princess. By the end of this night, you will be begging for my hands."

"You also can't be a creep," she said expressionlessly. Bellamy smirked at her in response.

Clarke yawned loudly and stretched her hands over her head, "I'm probably going to go to sleep now."

"You don't want anything to eat?"

"No. I'm pretty exhausted." Clarke settled down on the small bed. Bellamy watched as she curled herself into a tiny ball on top of the animal skins.

"Careful, Princess. Don't get your paint all over the bed." He listened for her response but was met with muteness. Bellamy chuckled as he walked over to his backpack. He pulled out a few pieces of dried meat.

He sat on the floor and quietly chewed on the tough jerky. Occasionally, he would hear Clarke groan and shift on the bed. He felt a sense of Déjà vu as he gazed at the small form on the bed.

While she was recovering from her war wounds with the Grounder, he would spend most of his time with her, carefully watching over Clarke.

The members of Camp Jaha had questioned why he did it. He gave them an excuse at the time, but he didn't fully understand why he refused to leave her by herself. At the time, he tried to dismiss the protective feelings for his co-leader as a survival instinct based on her skills. He kept her alive for her abilities as a healer and orator.

He laughed as he thought about her challenging Murphy and him. He could have killed her then, but she had the knowledge to keep his people alive. She also had the strength and intelligence to keep them together as a group.

She managed to tame an entire crowd of rowdy criminals, including himself. That alone impressed him. It also made him wary because he was not an inept teenager struggling with how he felt. He knew Clarke meant more than most, and it made him worried.

He cared for Clarke; probably more than he should. She wasn't sweet or naïve, but strong and powerful. She called people out on their bullshit and made them strive to be better; made him better.

If Clarke hadn't come down to Earth in the Dropship, he never would have attempted to be the person that Clarke saw in him. He probably wouldn't have lived for long either. The Ark would have killed him for his assassination attempt against Jaha. Her charisma and power of persuasion managed to save him.

Everything about Clarke ensnared him. Personality-wise, she didn't try to be sexy or smart. She wasn't exceptionally agreeable, and people often misinterpreted her bluntness as rudeness. But he quickly realized that those qualities weren't turnoffs.

Plenty of women were attractive, but her beauty was different. He would often find her with cuts, bruises, blood, and mud caked on her skin. Her clothes hung loosely on her body and needed to be sewn back together and cleaned, but he ignored those imperfections because she had something that other women from the 100 lacked.

She was authentic, through and through.

Her fiery personality, brains, and stubbornness challenged him. If she thought she knew better than him, she would act on those feelings. Usually, she was right about it. Her eyes would pierce through Bellamy's as she brusquely told him that he was wrong and an idiot.

It was different. Bellamy's strong personality usually dissuaded the females from the 100 from saying anything significant; they were too worried that he wouldn't want them after they spoke their mind.

He internally scoffed. They were so scared that he would leave them, but not because they loved him or anything as ridiculous as that. No, they didn't want to lose their ticket into his bed, and the bragging rights that came with it.

He watched as she squirmed and extended her arms over her head. Her top rose even more, giving him the opportunity to see the outline of her ribs, the smooth skin of her stomach, and the top of her hipbones.

Her body was also another part of her that he couldn't seem to get off his mind. Her silky, sun-kissed skin and curves hypnotized him. He lazily allowed his eyes to drift from her golden and wind-tossed curl to the prominent bones of her clavicle, down to the roundness of her chest.

Heat traveled to his groin as he stared at the tops of her visible breasts in their skintight cloth covering. Her body was twisted so he couldn't see the delicate skin along her back or her apple shaped rump in her snug, dark-colored pants.

He looked away as she restlessly moved again. He felt a small amount of shame over his depraved thoughts.

He was attracted to Clarke. Finding Clarke had cemented those feelings, and nothing could change that. He knew that he wouldn't act on it. He wouldn't let thoughts like that distract him.

Let her distract me, he corrected.

Bellamy realized that he had quietly been sitting on the floor for a long time. The cold from the night time air had seeped into the wooden shack. He stood up, shaking his stiff ligaments out.

He pulled out his canteen from his pack and took a small bowl that sat on the table. Dumping some of the water into the bowl, he used it to clean his face and arms. He took a swig of his water and swished it around his mouth, trying to clean out the taste of meat. He spit the liquid on the floor, using the toe of his boot to kick dirt over it.

It wasn't a toothbrush, but it would do for tonight. He used the bottom of his shirt to dry his face.

Mid-swipe, he stopped. He hadn't thought of the Camp Jaha but as he wished for a toothbrush, he realized that the Council hadn't expected them to be gone for more than two days, maybe three.

They will probably think we are dead, Bellamy thought morbidly.

He sighed and walked over to the bed. Looking down at Clarke, he realized that one, she was a huge bed hog, and secondly, she sat on top of the animal skins and would probably get cold during the night. Either way, Bellamy knew he would have to shift her over.

He leaned over and slowly moved Clarke into his arms. She squirmed a little bit before settling with her head against his chest. He rolled his eyes at her behavior.

After situating her in one arm against his chest, he used the other hand to tug the covers down on the bed. He laid her closer to the edge of the bed, giving both of them plenty of space. He rolled one of the skins, placed it under her head and drew one of the larger skins over her body. He finished by covering her with another one.

He walked back over to his side of the bed and pulled off his shoes and socks.

He reached for his shirt but stopped. He looked over at Clarke and debated with himself on what to do. Generally, he never slept with a shirt or pants anymore. Hell, half the time he didn't even wear boxers.

When he first arrived on Earth, he had felt too nervous about not being battle-ready, so he wore clothes to sleep.

He quickly stopped doing that when he began to wake up from nightmares about Grounders, Jaha, and his sister. He would jolt awake with wide eyes and covered in sweat. The fabric would be tangled around his skin, restricting his movements.

No, he could not sleep with them on. He grasped the hem of his shirt and swiftly pulled it over his head. He removed his pants too, setting both the shirt and cargo pants on the floor next to his shoes. He walked over to the table and blew out the candles, instantly shrouding the hut in darkness.

He carefully walked back over to the bed and sat in it. Before he laid down, he brushed off the dirt on his feet, leaned back in the bed, and dragged the coverings over his legs. He practically groaned in pleasure as he sank into the mattress.

He did not have another bedspread to roll into a pillow, so he tucked his arm and closed his eyes. He was lulled to sleep by the gentle whisper of Clarke's breathe.

The next morning, Bellamy woke up feeling extremely rested and warm.

He moaned as the light from outside blinded him and tried to roll away, but something soft had molded to the right side of his body during the night. His eyes opened wide, and he looked down at the small thing that was pressed against his chest and his leg.

His eyes grew impossibly larger as he realized that the thing baking his skin was Clarke.

During the night, both Clarke and Bellamy had moved to the center of the bed until she was lying almost fully on top of him. Her head rested on the center of his chest, and her legs entwined with his.

Her body scorched his where bare skin met bare skin.

He panicked. He needed to move her off before she woke up. Otherwise, he would be murdered before they had the chance to talk to the Grounder's leader.

He tried to disengage her legs from his and nervously shift her away.

He recalled as a fifteen-year-old watching a movie in class. They were supposed to learn about thinking critically or some bullshit thing like that, but in actuality, his teacher's husband was in trouble for something with the Council. For obvious reasons, she didn't want to teach that day.

The movie featured a detective. He thought carefully about the name. Pink Panther; the name of the film was The Pink Panther.

Right at that moment, he had the theme song from the recording going through his head as he carefully extracted himself from Clarke. Any shift in her breathing sped his heart up. He had finally rolled her away from himself when he noticed that her breaths were coming out unevenly. Little moans escaped her mouth and filled the air, going straight to his groin.

He tried to pretend to be asleep.

A few minutes, later he felt Clarke shift and sit up. He heard the rustle of clothes and felt her leave the bed.

He listened closely to the sound of feet padding across the ground before opening up his eyes. He pretended to stretch and groan as he sat up in the bed.

Clarke looked over at him and smiled softly.

"Morning," she whispered. She rubbed at her face with both hands.

"Morning," he replied roughly.

"How'd you sleep?" She yawned.

Bellamy almost answered how great it was to wake this morning, but quickly changed course with a simple answer.

"Fine. It's too damn bright in here, though." Clarke laughed at his reply.

"How about you?" he asked.

"To be honest, it was the best sleep I've had in a while." She smiled. Bellamy felt a burst of self-satisfaction at her response.

"Those beds are pretty comfy. We need to make them for when we get back." Bellamy nodded in agreement.

He slid out of the bed, stretching his arms over his head.

A small squeak escaped Clarke. He looked up at her face with concern to see her openly staring at his body. Her mouth formed a small "O" of shock. Bellamy struggled to keep in the chuckle that threatened to escape his mouth. He cleared his throat causing her eyes to rise swiftly to his face.

"Where are your pants?" Clarke exclaimed. The apples of her cheeks were tinged a light pink.

"Sorry," Bellamy retorted with a smug smile adorning his face. He walked over and pulled his pants up over his black boxers and pulled his shirt back over his head.

"What the hell!" she said angrily. She seemed to struggle with the next sentence.

"I don't like wearing pants. Hey, you can take your pants off too if it bugs you so much," he said innocently. He gave her a charming smile and watched with glee as her cheeks turned from pale pink to a rose-colored blush. He had never seen it turn that color before. It was actually pretty enticing.

"Not the point, Bellamy," she growled.

"It's not a big deal, Clarke. I swear I won't molest you in your sleep." Clarke rolled her eyes and turned away from him. Sadly, she didn't realize how close they came to that last night.

He sat down and began to lace up his shoes. He scrutinized her carefully as she filled the water bowl. She washed her face with the water repeatedly. Large amounts of paint disintegrated into the water, trickling down her neck.

"So how do you want things to go today?" Bellamy asked.

"I don't know. At this point, we are kind of at the mercy of the Grounders," she replied. She trailed her fingers across her face, feeling for any remaining paint. She found more underneath her eyes and began scrubbing vigorously.

"I know. I don't like how things are going."

"What do you mean?" She asked, turning towards him.

"These Grounders keep blaming us. The bridge, the murders, everything. We were defending ourselves, yet they play the victim role?" He continued without pause. His voice rose in volume as he talked.

"How many of our people have died? We have buried what, 17? Sterling is dead too, now. So 18. You saw only 47 others at Mount Weather. Finn, Raven, Murphy, Monroe, Eric, and I survived. Not that like that is much of an accomplishment. Do the math, Clarke. There were lives taken on both sides when you turned on the rockets, and I'm angry at this situation. I think they are going to claim that we should be held accountable for everything," his chest heaved as he took in deep breaths trying to calm down. Clarke had stopped removing the paint halfway into his rant and was staring at him with startled eyes.

"We won't. I promise. But you've got to remember that I'm not the enemy, and we can't keep thinking the Grounders are either," she walked closer to him. "Our enemy is holding are people captive in Mount Weather. Those people are the ones that will suffer if they have harmed our people."

He frowned but nodded in agreement

"It could be worse," she said as she opened up her bag and took out some food and her container of water. She sat down on the floor. Bellamy sat down, next to her and grabbed some of the food from her bag. She glared at him but allowed him to pop in a brown nut into his mouth.

"How do you figure that out?" he said as he chewed.

"Octavia's here. It doesn't seem like she is hurt."

"I guess. She seems different though. I don't like it."

Clarke laughed loudly. Bellamy glowered at her.

"She's growing up, Bellamy. It happens."

"She's only 16. I came down from the Ark to protect her. But, I've pretty much screwed up her life every way possible."

"You are too hard on yourself. She is different, but she seems more in control. I'm not saying that she was horrible or anything, but she did things on a whim. The more you tried to control her, the more she would lash out, which was dangerous for her and the others. I think she has found herself."

Bellamy looked at her stubbornly but refused to spend time arguing with Clarke. They ate quietly. Bellamy went back over to the bed while Clarke pulled out a gold hand mirror.

Breaking the silence, Bellamy asked, "Where did you get that?"

"My mom gave it to me after our meeting with the Council. She got it as a gift for her wedding from my grandma supposedly." He watched as she pulled small pots of paint out and set them on the table. She lit the candle using her flint from her bag and watched it burn for a few minutes.

Grabbing her knife from where it rested on the table, Clarke pulled a small amount of her hair forward. Bellamy observed her curiously as she used her hunting knife to saw off a half an inch of her hair and rolled the strands close together. She leaned over, blew the candle out, and dipped the chunk of hair into the hot wax. She held the strands to eye level and watched as it hardened around the hairs.

His curiosity got the best of him as he wondered what she was making.

"What are you doing?"

Clarke looked at him impatiently, "I'm making something to paint with."

He could hear the clear dismissal in her voice and took that as a hint. He went over to the table and grabbed one of the books off of the table, and went back to the bed.

Both Bellamy and Clarke became enraptured in their own worlds. Bellamy read through each of the journals, and Clarke traced all the lines on her skin as well as repainted her face.

Bellamy had finished reading the second to last journal when he heard the knock on the door. Clarke immediately dropped her make-shift paintbrush on the ground and stood up.

They stared at the door, waiting to see who would enter. Bellamy could see the eagerness on Clarke's face, but he felt wary and gripped the knife that he always carried close to his shoulder.

He practically sighed in relief as Octavia popped her head in.

"Hi, Guys. I've got more good news," she said cheerfully. "The commander is going to listen to your proposal. We leave tomorrow, morning."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading and supporting Resolutions! Feel free to review.**


	9. Chapter 9-Armistice

**A/N: Enjoy Everyone!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100. The story is rated M for adult themes and will feature spoilers.**

With Light, There is Hope by Princess One Point Five

Careful not to linger  
It's exhausting  
This different view

With you there is hope  
In time, you will learn

Resolutions- Chapter 9- Armistice

"Clarke, why aren't you looking at me?" Bellamy said in irritation.

"I'm just concentrating."

"No, you're not," he said stubbornly. Clarke bit down on her lip. In truth, he was absolutely, one hundred percent correct. After this morning, she had a hard time doing anything around Bellamy. Instead of focusing on the meeting with the Commander, her mind kept wandering to last night and the resulting fallout because of it.

She refused to look Bellamy in the eye. She was worried what might happen if she did. Would he realize what had happened during their sleep? Would he see that spark of longing that she had for him?

"Clarke…"

"Bellamy, can you just shut up. I have a huge headache, and your voice is like nails on a chalkboard."

A lie, she thought. A big lie filled with an abundance of bitchiness and juvenile brattiness, but he needed to stop trying to talk.

Every word out of his mouth was a reminder of that ridiculous, unsettling nightmare.

Clarke watched Bellamy glare at her, shut his mouth, and walk away. His boots clomped heavily on the ground. Guilt filled Clarke as she watched him flee from her bad attitude. She wanted to call him back, apologize, but she couldn't after last night.

Clarke's mind reluctantly drifted back to the dream. Heat rose in her chest as the images assaulted her mind; the sweet touch of skin on skin overruled her senses.

Even though she was asleep, it had felt so realistic. She had felt his large hands pulling her hips roughly towards him as his soft lips had forcefully descended on hers, bending and molding her to him.

Low groans had joined her own noises of pleasure as she bravely let her tongue trace his soft, sweet lips. The warmth of his mouth opening to hers left her gasping for air; their tongues raced together in a desperate battle for dominance. Her body burned with pure fire as his hands stroked the silkiness of her stomach. Her skin twitched as calloused fingers danced around the sensitive place near her hipbone, then soft as a whisper moved underneath the ridge of her shirt softly stroking over her ribs.

She moaned again. Bellamy pulled back and captured her face between his large palms. He smirked, letting his finger slide over her swollen lips.

He opened his mouth to say something, but she never heard what he said. Instead, she woke up panting, sweating, and throbbing with unfulfilled satisfaction. She had looked around for Bellamy hoping that he hadn't seen her like this, but found herself utterly alone in the little shack.

The dream gave her something that she believed, but never had proof of; It confirmed that she was pathetic. The dream showed her that even with her time with Finn, Clarke still didn't know very much about pure pleasure.

It also made her aware that there was something better out there. She blushed as she realized that it was the best kiss she'd ever had, and it wasn't even a real kiss.

It was the reason that she refused to look at Bellamy. In her head, she was hoping that if she couldn't see his eyes, then maybe she wouldn't feel so weird or think about how dark his eyes got when they smoldered at her.

She looked at Bellamy and found him walking next to Octavia. She could see them whispering to each other quietly. Occasionally, Octavia would throw her head back and laugh. It was nice because even from where she was standing, Clarke could see the happiness on Bellamy's face.

He seemed genuinely relaxed despite the small group of Grounder's escorting them to the Commander's base.

Clarke sped up and joined the group. Bellamy raised an eyebrow at her, silently asking if she was done being a brat. She gave him a small smile, making sure that she stared him in the eyes while doing so.

He rolled his eyes at her and returned the peace offering.

"O, was telling me more about her life here," he said, trying to include Clarke in their conversation.

"Oh, yeah." Octavia jumped in excitedly, explaining everything that she learned while she stayed with the Grounder village. Clarke listened attentively to Octavia as she retold her stories.

"They have animals here that are that big?" Clarke asked in amazement after listening to Octavia talk about a hunting trip that went farther into the forest than any of the 100 ventured.

"Bigger. I saw a young one, but Indra was telling me that if we had gone farther into the forest we would have seen one twice as big," Octavia explained excitedly. "It was really tasty, too."

"So you've gone out with Indra a lot?"

"Yeah, they adopted me into their tribe. Indra's been training me."

Bellamy looked at Octavia in surprise and confusion.

"Training you for what?" he asked.

"Bel, they want to keep me here. Indra's training me to be her second-in-command."

Air quickly expelled from his lungs. Clarke could see the anger harden in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but Clarke interrupted him knowing that he was going to piss off Octavia with whatever he said.

"Why would they choose you?" She asked softly, keeping her voice as nonjudgmental as possible.

"Indra lost her second. A band of Reapers attacked her when she went hunting. Later, I saved Indra's life when I was searching for Lincoln. I think she saw something in me. But there's more to it; I don't understand it entirely, but apparently, the women can't have kids easily, and even children that are born are more likely to have birth defects. The desperately need female leaders, so she chose me."

Clarke mumbled something under her breath.

"What?" spat Bellamy. Clarke turned to glare at him.

"I said that the radiation might have caused genetic mutations in their genes," she said in irritation.

"Can that happen to our people?" Bellamy wondered out loud.

"I'm not a geneticist. It's possible, but it would take several generations, and it depends on the person, the amount of radiation their bodies absorb, and their ability to process radiation. The people at Mount Weather can't process radiation, but our bodies can do it a lot better. It's one of the reasons we didn't die from radiation when we landed."

"So they can't fix it?"

The disappointment on Octavia's face was obvious. Clarke thought about it, trying to find the right words.

"I don't know," she answered simply. The three companions trailed off, allowing the hush of the forest to overtake them.

The gentle stamping of shoes, rustling of the leaves, and chirping bugs lulled Clarke into a daze. Her mind continued to run over various scenarios of the meeting. In her heart, it seemed doubtful that everything would go smoothly, but she had to have hope.

She barely noticed that they had stopped until she felt Bellamy's warm hand grab her wrist. She looked up startled by the action.

Clarke watched warily as the cluster of warriors filed ahead into a straight line through a heavily wooded space. She followed Octavia while Bellamy fell in line behind her.

The Grounders led them to a small clearing. A large gate guarded by Grounders in heavy masks blocked the group's path.

The gates made out of metal scraps and jagged spears opened as the group approached them, creating a harsh squealing sound. Clarke and Bellamy flinched away from the noise, but the others seemed desensitized to the noise.

"After you, Princess," Bellamy chimed while giving her a small nudge to the shoulder.

Clarke hesitated before setting her shoulders back. She walked to the gate, stopping suddenly at what she saw.

"How many of them are there?" she trilled in amazement. The camp buzzed with energy. From her view, a thousand warriors were milling around. Tents were strewn up between the trees, shrubs, and campfires.

Clarke could hear the light crunching of feet next to her. Indra stood next to her and stated, "You are lucky, Klok kum Skaikru. The war drums were sounding before Lexa agreed to see."

She looked at Indra, surprised by her words. She could see the hatred in the woman's eyes. Indra didn't want an alliance between her people and Clarke's people; she knew that, but she never realized how close they were to being destroyed by the Grounders. The cold, harshness in the woman's dark eyes cut into Clarke's psyche. What if their leader felt the same way? Did Clarke lead Bellamy and Octavia into a situation that would leave them dead?

"Where is Lexa?" Clarke asked strongly.

"This way."

Clarke followed Indra's lead into the camp. As they walked, people stopped and watched. Clarke could see the confusion on their faces as they stared at them. A strong woman pushed forward, clambering through the mass of Grounders. Clarke watched as her eyes opened wide before narrowing into slits. Her lone voice cried out in the noiseless clearing. Clarke flinched as she heard the pain in the women's voice.

More Grounders surged forward at the women's voice. Each person tried to get a glance of the travelers. A cacophony of noise rose around them, causing Clarke's heart to speed up.

"Octavia," Clarke called back. "Stay close to me."

Octavia ran to join her. She stopped once she reached Clarke.

"What's wrong?" She whispered breathlessly.

"What are they saying?"

Octavia frowned and looked at the Grounder's. Clarke watched her mouth speak inaudible words.

"It's a mixture," Octavia said hesitantly.

"Octavia, I need to know now."

"Some of them don't understand. They thought you were one of the leaders from Wadagedakru." Octavia saw the confusion appear on Clarke's face.

"The water village," she clarified. She stopped to listen again. Clarke waited impatiently.

"Other people recognize Bellamy's clothing. They are starting to put together that he is one of the sky people. They are angry and asking why you are here. Some of the people want you dead."

Clarke flinched again as she saw one woman throw herself against the crowd. A wild screech escaped her mouth as she tried to scramble through the men and women gathered around their group. Two of the men that escorted them from the village broke away, trying to intercept the woman.

"That group," Octavia whispered nervously, "are, um, appreciating your looks."

Clarke tore her eyes away from the women fighting desperately to break free and settled her gaze on a three lofty men who seemed to be jeering loudly. They sneered at her, eyeing her exposed skin hungrily.

Clarke could hear Bellamy growl behind her. His presence seemed to bear down on her, causing her to move quicker.

Clarke didn't know where they were supposed to be heading, but they were moving too slowly. More Grounders continued to gather around them.

Clarke looked back in time to hear the battle cry of the desperate women.

"Ripa!" screamed the women. She had finally managed to break away from the crowd.

Clarke froze as the women charged at them. Bellamy lunged in front of Clarke, shoving her behind his back. A man with a broad chest sprang forward, joining the woman. Clarke could see that the two were not alone as another group of Grounders surged forward. A hiss burst from Bellamy's lungs as he dragged Clarke into the center of their allies. The mob's hostility towards Bellamy and Clarke seemed to explode into chaos around them.

Clarke was not alone in her assessment; Bellamy could also sense the impending danger. He looked around wildly, trying to figure out a plan of escape.

"Octavia! Tell Indra that we need to move now," he yelled over the noise. Octavia nodded quickly in agreement.

"Indra, wen gaf thru heda." Octavia called forward. Indra looked over at Octavia in a bored manner before nodding in agreement. She called out to her men, causing them to swell forward.

Clarke followed in a stupor as she continued to watch the anarchy in the crowd. She could see more women and men join the group and chase after them. Bellamy shoved Clarke forward when he realized that she wasn't moving faster.

She took a deep breath and focused her attention on moving forward. She followed the group into what seemed to be the center of the camp.

A large, weathered canvas covering appeared in front of them. Clarke could see that the large tent seemed to drape over and around four large fern trees.

They were a few feet from the tent when Bellamy spoke up. "Why did they stop?" He queried.

Clarke looked over her shoulder at the crowd that had fallen silent. They stood behind them in complete silence.

"You the one they call Clarke? Come forward to me," Boomed a heavy, masculine voice. Clarke felt her heart lurch at the surprising voice.

Clarke followed the voice to a man standing outside the tent. A small Grounder woman stood nearby him. The speaker looked like so many of the other Grounder's; he had the typical darkly tanned skin of a man who lived outside. But, Clarke could sense something different about him.

Deeply set worry lines surrounded his almond-shaped eyes. They seemed to scan over Clarke, searching for something that Clarke couldn't identify.

Clarke took a deep breath and exhaled, allowing her nerves to escape. She walked forward ignoring the male. When she stepped in front of the Grounder woman, she rose her hand over her heart.

She recited the phrase that Octavia taught her, "Leksa kom Tregedakru, Ai laik Klok kom Skaikru en ai gaf gouthru klir."

She could hear the grumble of anger from the onlookers, but Clarke kept her focus on the young woman.

"I know who you are Clarke. You have already gained safe passage here. My people know that." Her hardened gray eyes turned towards the man.

"Gustus."

She made eye-contact with him and gave a nod. Without a word, he began to walk towards the crowd. Clarke's curiosity turned to horror as the man grabbed the woman who had charged at them first, and began to drag her by her hair.

He brought the woman into the center and let her body drop to the ground. A cloud of dirt rose as she landed heavily on the forest floor. Clarke looked at the cold face of the Commander questioningly. Lexa's face was frozen in a mask of cold contempt.

A sharp cry echoed out. Clarke turned back towards the women and watched as the Grounder's hands, folded into heavy fists, began to rain down blows on the woman. Hard, sharp knuckles cut into the woman's skin causing deep, ruby droplets to seep from her wounds and drop into the mud.

Clarke thought that the man would stop, but he didn't. Each bone breaking strike of flesh against flesh caused a fresh new wave of shame, guilt, and revulsion in Clarke. How could they do this to their own people?

The other observers did nothing as the woman cried in pain. All of them silently watched as if it was expected.

Clarke looked at Lexa pleadingly.

"Wait! You must stop this," she said.

"She disrespected me by disrespecting my guests. This is how it must be."

"Commander, you know why I am here. We want to try to work with you. We understand that it will take time, but we can't start a truce based on blood." Lexa's observed Clarke carefully. Her eyes scanned over the determined set of Clarke's mouth and the concerned furrow eyebrow.

Lexa took several steps forward.

"Daun ste pleni," Lexa commanded. Gustus's fist froze in midair. He looked up at Lexa and brought his bloody fist to his side.

"I will do this as a sign of peace. This will not happen again. Now, come in. We have things to discuss."

Indra, Lexa, and Gustus walked towards the tent. Clarke gave Bellamy and Octavia a signal to follow and entered the opening of the door.

Lexa sat down on a throne made of animal bones and inspected Clarke's appearance. Clarke stood straight and tall, waiting for the leader to speak.

"Clarke of the Sky People. I have a heard many things about you. Do you know that you have put me in a difficult position?"

"I can only imagine," Clarke answered.

"I have heard that you led the attack against my people and that you burned three hundred of my warriors alive."

"You're the one who sent them to kill us."

Bellamy shifted next to her, but Clarke ignored the fact that this conversation was already taking a turn for the worse.

"And, yet I hear that you are calling for a cease-fire. Is that also true?"

"It is. We do not want war. I think we can come to an agreement that will benefit our people."

Clarke watched Indra lean forward; her hand gripped a wicked-looking bone dagger.

"No! Jus drein jus daun!" she exclaimed. She took a menacing step towards Clarke.

"I know what your people want. I know that we have a lot to talk about, but we are willing to give you a fair trade."

"What can you offer us? What is this trade that you are talking about?" Lexa asked. Her indifference seemed to melt as curiosity bloomed across her face.

"I can give you life for your people. I can teach your healers methods that would save your sick." Clarke could see the grounder leader considering her suggestion.

Indra stepped forward again with a snarling expression on her face and asked, "What makes your methods better? We are better without your kind here."

"Think about how often your people die. Consider how a cut or a broken bone effects them. We can stop that. Our medicine is more effective than yours. The knowledge that we possess can help save many of your people's lives."

"Why don't we just kill your companion and force you to give us your information."

Bellamy tensed at the grounders words. Clarke felt the panic rise in her. What can I say, she thought, how can I protect my people?

Taking a cleansing breath, Clarke stated in an unwavering voice, "If you do that you will lose much more than you gain," She stared down the Commander. "You are fighting a war. The reapers are slowly killing, eating, and torturing your people. The Mountain Men are keeping hundreds of your men and warriors in cages. They are using their blood for medicine. Instead of being able to defeat this enemy, you are letting your people die."

"Do not speak as if you know our pain," Lexa exclaimed.

"We do not know everything, but we've lost people too. I want to stop those deaths from happening."

"We can't believe her, Lexa. They have been proven untrustworthy," spat Indra. "Think about what they did to Anya."

The softening in Lexa's eyes disappeared when she heard Anya's name.

"Anya believed in this treaty," Clarke said.

"She is lying."

"How do you know any of this?" Lexa asked.

"Because I was one of them."

"Lies! No one escapes the mountain" bared Indra.

"I did. With Anya. We fought our way out together."

"Another lie. Anya died in the fire. You killed her." Clarke ignored Indra and reached into her satchel pulling out a long caramel-colored braid of hair.

"She told me you were her second. I'm sure she would want you to have this." Clarke took a slow step towards Lexa, offering her the braid.

"We don't know it was hers."

"Shof op, Indra. Gustus, Indra, Okteivia kamp raun tend." Clarke watched as Gustus raised his hand to his heart and left without a word. Indra did not move at all. She looked shocked and angry at her leader. Her eyes narrowed before she raised her fist to her heart and stormed out of the room. Octavia hesitated momentarily before following the two Grounders out of the tent.

"I assume that you want him to stay," Lexa asked, pointing at Bellamy.

"Yes."

"I believe you, but I want to know more about your people. I want to know why we can trust the Sky People."

"Lexa, we are not different from you. We will live here and die here. Our people will be bleed into the ground and be buried in the dirt that your feet touch. But, we will not die from anything other than fate. We are going to destroy Mount Weather for what they did. They will not be allowed to slaughter us like animals. We will fight until they are dead in the ground. But, we can't do this without an alliance with you. One that will last. Let this be our chance to move forward," Clarke said passionately.

"What are your terms?"

"We promise three things; an alliance that will continue from this day forth, medical advice, and 25 guns with enough bullets to fill each gun twice. This is what we offer in exchange for peace. From you, we want your help in burning Mount Weather to the ground, knowledge on how to survive the Earth, and a small portion of land."

"You want our land?" Lexa looked at Clarke in disbelief.

"No, we don't want to take anymore. We want an official statement that says we are allowed on the land near our camps."

Lexa looked at Clarke thoughtfully.

"But, you have slain my people, burned my villages, and forced my people to become traitors. I will not accept such terms without justice."

"We have both sacrificed."

"My people will not agree without a fair exchange."

"What do you want?"

"We want the murderer who massacred one of my villages. I want the one named Finn."

"No!" Clarke exclaimed.

"This is the terms of our agreement. We will only accept when the boy's breath leaves his throat for the last time."

We don't kill our own." Bellamy interjected. His body was tightly clenched as he spoke through gritted teeth. Clarke looked up at him. He had been silent during the negotiations but broke his silence when he realized that Lexa wanted Finn.

"You will not speak here," Lexa demanded. She narrowed her eyes in response to Bellamy's interruption. Bellamy opened his mouth to argue, but Clarke stopped him by holding her hand up.

"Bellamy, be quiet," Clarke commanded.

The commander's head tilted as she observed the interaction. Her intelligent gaze flickering from Clarke to Bellamy before settling back on Clarke.

"Clarke…" Bellamy interjected.

"I said be quiet." Her voice was harsh and sharp as she said, "Commander, I have heard your terms. Although we need peace, we will not accept your conditions. We cannot agree to this."

"You are willing to die for one man?"

"Yes. If we are willing to betray one of our own, what will keep us from betraying you? We understand your need for vengeance, but we will not allow it." The young Grounder women solemnly looked at Clarke and Bellamy.

"You have impressed me, Princess of the Sky People. I do not want pointless death. I do not want to hear about invaders that are killing my people or unnecessarily murdering others, but in this matter, I only have so much control. I need more than a promise. I want our tribes to be locked by blood."

"What do you mean?"

"Blood must have blood. Your people have decimated my ranks, destroyed our supplies, and taken our land. My people are angry. I want you to tie your hands to us, as we will do to you."

"I still don't understand."

"We want a child."

Clarke blanched, "A child...?"

"Yes."

"Children are rare in my society. They are hard to make and even harder to keep alive. I need a second since the death of Anya. Give me that, and we will accept."

Clarke's mind began to throb as she considered the condition. Who's child? Would they be alone with the Grounders? How old? How will the child be treated? Was it reasonable?

"We need to consider your offer." Clarke stated, "We will return to our camp and see what is possible. Send a courier in three days. You will have an answer then."

The commander stood. "One day. You will have one day, and you will stay here until I know your answer." She said firmly. Clarke reluctantly nodded in agreement.

Lexa smiled and called out for Gustus. He entered the tent and stood by his leader.

"I have one more question," Lexa declared.

"Yes?"

"Your warrior. Is he a good protector?" Clarke looked at her in confusion at the change in subject.

"Yes," she said hesitantly.

"Would you leave him here under my command as a sign of good faith if you agree to my terms?" Clarke felt cold as the blood rushed from her face. She turned and stared at Bellamy in shock. His eyes narrowed into thin slits, glaring at Lexa.

Quickly, she turned back around.

"No! I will not." Lexa looked at her curiously.

"Maybe I can persuade you." Lexa looked over her shoulder and signaled for Gustus to leave and go retrieve something.

"Lexa, it is nonnegotiable. Bellamy is mine," Clarke said calmly.

"Yours? You are mated," questioned Lexa. A look of understanding crossed her face as she assumed that Clarke's reluctance was because the two Sky people were bonded. Lexa did not realize that with every word that left her mouth, it caused Clarke's heart to race faster. She had to ball her hands into fists to keep them from trembling.

"Mated?" She sputtered. She couldn't see Bellamy's reaction to the comment, but he remained quiet.

"Yes. We call it marriage here, but I do not know your customs at all. To us, marriage is binding oneself to another on an intimate level." Lexa clarified.

"We call it marriage too."

"At least we have that in common. So… are you bound together?"

"No," Clarke said sharply. Lexa frowned.

"Then you will leave him," she said. A smile graced her face as she eyed Bellamy's strong and solid form.

"No."

"I do not understand. Are you insulting me by thinking that he won't be safe here?" Clarke could see Lexa's fingers dig into her chair. Her knuckles began to turn white from her tight grip.

I need to tread lightly, Clarke thought. If I don't think fast, the groundwork for the truce will disappear.

"We are not bound… but he is my warrior, my protector," she said slowly. Clarke avoided looking in his direction.

"I understand. I would never allow Gustus to leave. It's a shame though." A voice outside the tent called out in the Grounder's native language. Lexa shouted a reply before smiling at Clarke.

"I was hoping to trade you for your warrior, but maybe I can give you this to solidify our alliance." Two humans were pushed into the tent.

Clarke looked in amazement to see Jaha and Kane stumble in. Clarke's mouth dropped open in surprise as she scanned their bodies from head to toe, searching for any injuries.

"We will escort them back to your camp."

Clarke ignored Lexa's message and took a small step towards the men.

"You're supposed to be dead," she whispered speaking only to the man who was a second father to her.

"I managed to escape," Jaha said. He gave her a sad smile. She stopped in front of him, hesitating only a moment before throwing her arms around him. He instantly returned it, pulling her to him.

"What are you doing here, Clarke? Where is Abby?" Clarke had a hard time articulating her thoughts until she realized that Lexa and Gustus were in the room. She couldn't be the scared absent-minded child that looked up to Jaha. Down here, she was a warrior and a leader. Lexa couldn't see any weakness.

Clarke pulled away from the hug and straightened her shoulders.

"Everyone is at our camp. I am discussing the terms to our truce with the Grounders."

"You're a child," he stammered in disbelief.

"I haven't been a child for a long time, Chancellor Jaha." Clarke changed subject to prevent her bitter feelings from rearing their head, "You are going to be escorted to Camp by two Grounders while we stay here and finish what we started. You need to get a message to my mother as soon as possible."

"No. I will not let a child conduct the negotiations with our enemies."

"You will do this, or there will be war," She eyed Jaha and Kane as she said this. Jaha looked helplessly at Clarke.

Kane asked, "What message do you want us to give to Abby?"

Kane's acceptance of the situation surprised Clarke. It made things easier, but she had expected him to fight against her decision. On the Ark, she had remembered that he was arrogant and often undermined her mother.

But he just wants the best for his people, she realized.

Clarke noticed Lexa listening with a hungry curiosity.

"Let her know that we have the terms and are in a cease-fire. I also want you to ask her about any orphans. Specifically ask about any girls," she said grimly.

Lexa smiled triumphantly.

"Kamp raun emo honan," she said exuberantly. Gustus and another guard marched over to Jaha and Kane. Grabbing their arms, the guards steered them out of the tent. "Clarke, I will give you your time. I have a tent prepared for you and one for your warrior."

Bellamy visibly bristled at the statement and turned his dark brown eyes on Clarke. Clarke didn't need Bellamy to tell her what was aggravating him; she already knew.

"We just need one tent," Clarke said pleasantly but made sure to leave enough steeliness in her tone that Lexa couldn't object.

"I do not care either way. Rivo, your guard while you are here, is standing outside my tent. He will escort you around the village and make sure that you are safe." Lexa stood and gave them a nod of dismissal.

Clarke and Bellamy left without another word, quickly finding Rivo. They followed him through the camp to a smaller tent.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading and supporting Resolutions! Feel free to review. In addition, I have left the link to the playlist for this story on my author page. I do recommend taking a look at it.**


	10. Chapter 10-Innocence

**A/N: Enjoy Everyone! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100. The story is rated M for adult themes and will feature spoilers. **

Make Believe by The Burned

Whose to give everything  
Just to serve what they believe in?  
'Cause that's the way you play the game of life.  
You create the world you want to see outside.  
And remember what it's like to play God  
And make believe in miracles again.  
Oh, make believe in miracles, my friends.

Resoulutions- Chapter 10- Innocence

Bellamy brushed past Clarke. Anger rolled off of him in waves. He had played the obedient servant, but he couldn't pretend any longer. He stomped over to the edge of the tent, threw his bag into a corner, and began pacing back and forth. He ignored Clarke as she cautiously moved forward.

She wisely kept quiet, waiting for the flames of anger to die, ignoring him as he tried to come up with a way to explain his feelings without allowing the string of expletives to fly from his mouth.

It wasn't like he had a difficult time coming up with a valid reason to be angry. The entire situation with the Commander's demands was enough, but he couldn't get rid of the unsettled feeling from seeing Clarke talk with Lexa.

He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling audibly.

"This is insane," he finally said. Clarke said nothing. "Tell me that it is insane."

"It's the only option," she said plainly. Bellamy stared at her in shock.

"Are you kidding me? You're honestly considering this bullshit deal?" Bellamy raged. The snarl that seemed to lurk just under the surface reappeared with a vengeance.

"Yes, I do. I thinks it will be better for the group. We need this alliance."

"What about the child?"

"We can't worry about that."

"We have to. It's a child, Clarke. That's what you are planning on agreeing to. You want to give an innocent child to these people."

"I'm looking at the big picture here."

"The big picture includes abandoning one of our own? Nice to know where your priorities lie."

"Bellamy, you know that there is more to the situation."

"Not in this case."

"We could stop a war between the Grounders by just saying yes."

Bellamy gave her a look of disgust and scoffed at her.

"We can find another way. We don't need them."

"If we want her people to live then we do need them."

"You are just like your mother, Clarke. Sacrificing one person to save the rest of the people," he spat at her. He stared into those cerulean eyes, waiting for her reaction, hoping that she would stop this crazy idea. He watched as her eyes tightened into narrow slits.

"That's a low blow," she said tightly.

"So what! Am I lying?"

"There is more to consider."

"Isn't there always," Bellamy said sarcastically.

"You know what, Bellamy. I get it. I completely understand where you are coming from, but leaving a child with the Grounder's is not the worst thing in the world. From what we have seen, they care about their children out of necessit-"

"You just saw Lexa order her soldier to assault a woman because she stepped out of line!" interrupted Bellamy.

"The Ark floated hundreds because they stepped out of line! We aren't better than them. You have to stop thinking that you are," Clarke whispered harshly. Bellamy took a few steps, crossing the room until he was standing a foot away from her small frame.

"If you are so willing to sacrifice one person, then why not take the original deal. Why not give them Finn? He would be better than a defenseless kid."

"Why are you getting stuck on that fact that it is a child?"

"Are you serious? You can't understand at all why I am against giving them one of our children? I raised Octavia by myself. I was her brother, friend, and father wrapped up in one package. Octavia's my reason! If I were dead or gone, I wouldn't want someone to randomly throw her in with a group of savages, and it disturbs me that you think this isn't a big deal."

"They aren't savages, Bellamy. And I never said that it wasn't a big deal, but it's our only option without causing causalities. Finn would die; the child won't."

"There is another option," he said. "I can go to Mount Weather by myself." Clarke began shaking her head before he even finished the sentence.

"There is no way."

"If you could get out of Mount Weather, then I can go in."

"No, Bellamy! We are taking the deal," she shouted severely.

"That's interesting, Princess, because if I remember correctly, I don't take orders from you. Give me a good reason that makes the trade our only option."

"Mount Weather should be reason enough."

"It isn't, so give me a better one," Bellamy seethed.

"If you go in there, you will die. They will kill you."

"Going to war with the Grounders as allies could kill me. Try again."

"That's the best reason I have! I don't want you to die! Everyone that I care about leaves in one way or another. I can't lose you too," she screamed in anger. The skin on her cheeks was flushed as she practically fought to get enough air in her body. He could see her hands shaking where she clenched them at her side. Bellamy knew that she had reached her limits with this conversation. The openly hostile scowl on her face and the way her usually crystal blue eyes seemed hazy and glassy told him that she her walls were on the verge of disintegrating.

"Clarke," he said softly, "you know I could do this."

"When I tried to escape, I almost died. I found the room of Grounder's, saw their bodies hanging broken from the ceiling with their blood draining into tubes. If that happened to you… I just can't let it happen," she finished in a broken stutter.

"It wouldn't."

"It could. Please, Bellamy. Let me try before you decide that dying is the only way. I need you." Bellamy paused as he watched her face falter into a pleading look.

"Fine, but I want us to renegotiate on the child's behalf. The girl needs to be safe."

"Okay. We will talk to Lexa tomorrow about the details," Clarke agreed readily. The unshielded relief on her face caused Bellamy's chest to ache. He rubbed the spot before turning away from her.

He needed clarity and time alone from Clarke to digest the information.

"I'm going to go for a walk. I need to think about this."

He could hear the anxiety in her voice as she asked him if he was alright. He waved her off and exited the tent. He stopped short as he saw Rivo standing watch several feet away from the tent. His eyes were set away from the tent as if he had not heard their argument, but with the thin material of the tent, Bellamy knew that he probably heard every word.

Bellamy ignored that fact and calledRivo over. He let the man know that he was going to explore the camp. The man merely nodded and followed Bellamy towards the perimeter of the felt calmer as he walked back from the edge of the had spent the afternoon showing him the camp.

* * *

Bellamy felt calmer as he walked back from the edge of the woods. Rivo had spent the afternoon showing him the camp.

Initially, Bellamy resented the man's company and wished that he was alone with his thoughts. Of course, Rivo ignored his claims of needing space. The Grounder stated that his presence might dissuade any attacks, but it seemed like after the incident with the mob, tension had settled down in camp. Although Bellamy did receive heated glances and heard the occasional "ripa," the Grounders did not approach him and tried to ignore his existence in the camp.

Though it had taken a majority of the walk, Bellamy was able to gain some perspective on the situation with the treaty. He knew that part of his anger over the terms of the truce were because of his own bias. The Grounders murdered so many of the 100 but seemed to expect so much from the Sky People.

And, to be honest, it pissed him off that Clarke wanted to work with them, but he had to start thinking of these people as more than their enemy. Walking around and observing the camp seemed to be a good start.

As he watched them working around camp, he reluctantly accepted that these people weren't the monsters that the 100 originally saw them as.

He hated to admit it, but the Grounders were very similar to the 100. They each had a role to play in creating the community. The woman were organizing and cooking while the men were lifting items and building structures. It seemed like a typical male-dominated society, but then he would observe the men and women switch roles.

A closer inspection made him realize that that they weren't assigned tasks that were meant for the females or the males. They were working together to accomplish their goals and survive.

His mind became more open as he continued to observe their interactions noticing how humanizing their actions were.

At one point, Bellamy noticed a young man lightly brush the cheek of a Grounder woman. The soft touch was innocent, but he could see in their eyes that they cared, and perhaps, loved each other. When she walked away to join another group of woman, the group circled around her, whispering and giggling at her display of affection.

He watched in amusement as she lightly swatted at a friend's shoulder; the light skin of her cheeks turned a dark red as she chastised the other girl for her silliness. It was that moment that made him see the Grounders as being more than just savages.

He found that he could also see that the Grounders shared similar personalities to the members of the 100. In particular, Bellamy realized that Rivo was comparable to Miller. Miller had been one of the few men that he trusted back at the Dropship. With a good heart and unbreakable amount of loyalty, he was Bellamy's go-to-guys.

Bellamy didn't know a lot about Rivo, but he quickly grew to enjoy Rivo's company. He didn't speak much, but when he did, it was important. He clearly didn't trust Bellamy, but he was curious about the Sky People and would ask small questions about the space or how they lived.

Bellamy finally decided to call it quits for the day when the sky had faded to a dark blue and the sun had disappeared behind the trees.

Rivo was leading the way when Bellamy heard the sound of someone crying for help. Bellamy froze as he realized that he recognized the tortured scream of his co-leader. His blood felt like it would explode out of his chests as the ragged shriek pierced his heart.

He turned and looked at Rivo. The young man's eyes were wide with disbelief. That look of surprise kicked Bellamy into action. He broke into a sprint in the direction of their tent.

Dread turned to terror as the night became dead silent. He could no longer hear Clarke's screams. He pushed his feet to go faster, weaving through the tents and ducking around the objects in his way.

Bellamy felt a small sense of relief as his eyes locked onto the tent ahead of him. He raced towards it, tearing back the entrance to the tent and throwing his body into the small space.

"Clarke!" he bellowed when he saw the sight before him.

He could see Clarke on the floor with a man sitting on top of her, pinning her small frame to the ground. One large, meaty hand was tightly wrapped around her throat, while the other hand tore at her body, scratching deep gouges into her skin and ripping at her clothes. Clarke's small hands desperately clawed at the hand around her neck, trying to push away the large man.

Bellamy looked on in horror as her face turned a frightening shade of red. Her pale lips were tinged blue from the lack of oxygen. He could hear the small choking noises escaping from her mouth.

"Quint, let her go!" shouted Rivo. The man looked over his shoulder in surprise, relaxing his grip around Clarke's throat. Bellamy exhaled in relief as the man's distraction gave Clarke the opportunity to breathe easier; she gasped in the air.

Bellamy's relief quickly turned into panic as he saw the man eye Rivo before turning back to Clarke and doubling his efforts on ending her life. He could see her eyes snap open in terror as Quint's fingers squeezed harder around her neck. A strange hiss escaped her gaping mouth.

Bellamy tried to lunge forward, but Rivo grasped his hand and pulled back. Bellamy reacted instinctually and pulled his arm back, landing a punch on the warrior. He ignored the shooting pain in his hand and turned back to Quint and Clarke. He was about to tackle the man, only stopping when he saw the knife in Quint's hand.

"Don't do this," Bellamy pleaded. His eyes were frozen on Clarke's face. He could only watch as her face turned purple, and her bloodshot eyes rolled into the back of her head. Her arms fell limply to her side.

"I have to. She must die." The man said.

"Do you really want war with our people? If she dies, then that is all you will have. Let her go!" Bellamy growled. The man raised his knife above his head.

"Let us have war then," he said quietly. He quickly brought his arm down ready to take Clarke's life.

Bellamy roared in rage and dove forward. As he was reaching for Clarke, a glint of something silver whizzed past his head. Quint let out an inhuman howl of pain as the edge of a blade sunk into Quint's flesh.

He looked behind him where Rivo was standing. One arm was extended out in front of him. The other hand held another blade, ready to throw it if necessary.

Bellamy didn't hesitate when he turned away from Rivo and pulled the Grounder off of Clarke, throwing him towards Rivo.

"Tie him up," he growled. It took everything in him not to turn back and finish killing the man, but his focus was on Clarke. He gently placed his hands against her neck. His fingers brushed against the red, bruising skin and up to her pulse point. He waited a moment before sighing in relief as he felt the gentle thrumming through her skin that signaled that she had lived.

He glanced over his shoulder after discovering that she was alive only to find that Rivo was struggling to keep Quint restrained. The man was twisting and turning in the other Grounder's arms. The fury in Bellamy exploded. This man had nearly killed Clarke. It was his hands that left marks on her neck. His hands that had scratched at her skin and ripped her clothes. He was the reason that she was unconscious on the floor.

Bellamy flew at Quint in a blind rage. Fist after fist slammed into his face, chest, and stomach. Pain shot through his hands, but it didn't deter Bellamy. Instead, the pain fueled his anger. Clarke almost died.

He didn't see the blood racing out of Quint's crushed nose or the immediate swelling on his face due to his knuckles striking the man's cheekbones, nor did he hear the snapping of bone under his hand or see the spray of blood burst from the man's mouth.

The only image in his mind was Clarke's face, and that moment when fear turned to acceptance as she realized that she was going to die.

He couldn't break the consuming anger until Rivo let go of the unconscious man and tried to intervene.

"Stop, Bellamy," He said. "You can't get the answers you need if he is dead."

Bellamy shoved the Grounder out of his way, completely ignoring Rivo's logic. Quint needed to die tonight.

He would die tonight.

He raised his foot up to kick the man's skull in, and would have finished the job if he didn't hear the feminine, gurgling cry behind him. He instantly froze and looked down in horror at the man's broken and bloodied body.

He didn't regret the pain that he inflicted on Quint, but he had left Clarke on the floor alone to accomplish his goal. He stumbled back and turned to Clarke. When he reached her, he immediately fell to the floor, delicately stroking her face.

"Clarke..." he whispered.

She moaned in response. Her eyes stayed tightly sealed together.

Bellamy's lip pinched tightly together. He looked over at Rivo with anger and mistrust burning in his eyes.

"Tell your Commander that I want him alive until I can handle it tomorrow. If he is dead or missing, our agreement is off the table."

Rivo nodded in agreement before calmly saying, "Let me get my healer. He can help."

"We don't need your help. Give the Commander my message. Otherwise, leave us alone." His words were hateful and spiteful. Any understanding built between the two men during their exploration of the camp was destroyed by the attack.

Rivo's face hardened under Bellamy's glare. He solemnly put his hand over his heart and left the tent.

Bellamy immediately leaned back over Clarke. He felt helpless as he listened to her rasping breaths.

Should he pick her up? Would it hurt her more?

Part of him wished that he had accepted the Grounders' help. He didn't know anything about health or medicine. He could wrap up a bleeding cut or stitch something up, but he left the other tasks to Clarke.

Giving Clarke one more hard look, he gently lifted her head into his left arm and scooped the rest of her body up. He stood and walked over to the area on the floor that held piles of animal skins. It wasn't the mattress in Lincoln's hut, but it was better than the hard ground. He placed her on top of a smooth, muddy-colored fur covering, then walked over to a corner of the room that held food, a bowl, and a metal pitcher of water. He poured a small amount of liquid into the bowl, watching as it sloshed around the edge of the clay dish.

He stared at the water in the bowl. His reflection gazed back at him. He could see the dark circles under his eyes, the way his brow seemed to hold a permanent crease, and how the corners of his mouth seemed to tighten into a straight line of displeasure. He sighed deeply, and turned away from the translucent image. He walked over to Clarke's bag, pulling out a clean white bandage.

It might be wasteful, but he wanted to somehow wipe away the cuts on her skin, maybe erase the evidence that Quint had almost destroyed her vitality. He dipped the cloth into the water and squeezed out the excess water.

He strode over towards Clarke and sat on the floor next to her. He froze as he looked at her body. Red marks danced across the length of her skin, mixing in with the fresh bruises on her neck and wrists, and blending with the deep scratches on her stomach and cheeks.

He could still her the wheezing in her throat as she gently breathed in and out. He shook his head in disgust before placing the bandage over his skin. He gently wiped away the droplets of blood and the dust on her skin before leaning over her body to wipe her face.

He was happy to see that the paint easily came off on the bandage too. The old Clarke was much better than this false version. She was not a Grounder; they were evil and cruel, murderous and vengeful, and Clarke wasn't that type of person. She did not need to swirl paint on her skin to gain the respect of the Grounders.

He brushed the soft, damp cloth on her face lightly circling her cheekbone and the scrape on her forehead. In his mind, he was documenting each and every injury, letting it fuel the burning pit in his stomach.

"They all deserve to die for what they have done to us, Clarke," he muttered angrily.

"Do they really, Bel?"

Bellamy startled at the sound of the voice, blindly reaching for a weapon, but quickly stopped when the surprise faded and he could see that the voice belonged to his sister.

"What the fuck, O? I could have hurt you."

She ignored his indignant retort. "What's going on? I heard yelling and saw that they dragged off one of their leaders."

"He was a leader?"

"I think so."

"Well, he tried to kill Clarke." Octavia gaped at him and looked over Bellamy's shoulder at the sleeping figure on the floor.

"Is she okay now?"

"I don't know, O. I think so, but I am not a goddamn doctor."

"Let me get a healer then."

"No fucking way!" spat Bellamy.

"So what, you hate all Grounders now?"

"I never started liking them, Octavia. Clarke wanted to come here to reach an agreement with these savages, not me."

"I never would have thought that you would be so ignorant. Out of all the Sky People, you should know how hard it is when you are being judged for trying to survive."

"What are you getting at?"

"Because of mom and me, you had to scrounge around to survive. You had a shit job, no money or food, and you lost any chance at a normal life. You shot Jaha so that you would survive. That's how the Grounders feel about the Sky People. They want to survive, and they don't want to follow orders or agree to a truce with people that they don't trust."

"They are targeting the treaty." His tone was dark with the realization. Octavia nodded her head in agreement.

"And Quint probably isn't working alone," she added.

"I still want him dead," he gritted out.

"I figured you would. You're a good person, but you go overboard for the people you love."

"And that's a bad thing?" he asked in disbelief. He rose an eyebrow at her.

She rolled her eyes at him. "No, but I don't want you to lose that part of you that is good. There was a point where I thought you lost it. When you tortured Lincoln, all I could think was you're a monster. I know you aren't, but I'm worried that if you kill Quint or act out in revenge, it will make you lose sight of what's important."

"If he lives then he could try to kill Clarke."

"Trust me when I say that once Lexa learned about this, there was no way that Quint was going to survive. No one can disobey the Commander. Just don't be the person that ends his life." Bellamy watched her carefully. With her arms folded over her body and the stern look on her face, he couldn't help but acknowledge that in the short time they were separated she had grown up. She wasn't the same kid from space.

"You're different, you know? I'm really surprised," he said, giving her a sideways look. "I'm proud of the person you are becoming." She looked at him in astonishment before her wide eyes narrowed slightly. The mischievous gleam in them shined brightly.

"Whatever, Bel," she said playfully, rolling her eyes at him again. "Make sure you wake Clarke up soon. She needs to be up to see Lexa tomorrow before Quint's execution."

Bellamy agreed and watched as she left the tent. He sighed and scrubbed his hands through his dark hair, letting his long fingers pull through the wild curls.

"Bellamy…"

Bellamy looked up and saw Clarke's blue eyes staring at him.

"Clarke," he breathed. "You're up."

"Yeah," she rasped.

"How do you feel?"

"I'll heal."

"Good," he cleared his throat. "It would be kind of awkward explaining to your mom that you were dead." A look of amusement touched her face as her pale, cracked lips curled up into a small smirk.

"You are an ass."

He shrugged his shoulders and smirked back at her, but quickly stopped as her face morphed into a look of fear.

"What happened to that man?"

"He is alive, but not for long." He looked at her drawn face. The bruises seemed heavy on her face, aging her ten years. "What happened Clarke?"

She looked startled by the question, but quickly answered, "He came in, threatened me, attacked me, and then you walked in."

"That's it?"

He scrutinized her as she answered. He recognized the stubborn set of her jaw as her eyes blankly met his.

"Yes, that's it."

He knew that there was more. Clarke was hiding something, but it wasn't his place to push her. If it were life-threatening, she would tell him. There was no way she would hide something so important, especially if it had to do with their survival.

"Okay. Tomorrow we are meeting with Lexa to figure out what it means for the truce," he stated.

"Got it."

"Why don't you get some rest?"

"Are you going to sleep?"

"No, I'm going to keep watch. I can't let my guard down again."

"It's not your fault, Bellamy," she whispered softly. Her eyes implored him to see reason. "They want me dead. Tonight was bound to happen."

"It won't on my watch."

"Please, Bellamy. I don't need that. I'm sure Lexa will post a guard to stay the night. Can… can you just lay down here with me," she requested.

Bellamy hesitated. He wanted to keep them safe; keep her safe. His mind couldn't relax with the knowledge that they could be murdered in their sleep or that Clarke could be stolen away during the night.

Clarke's eyes never left his as she pulled up the bedding as a silent invitation.

Bellamy looked at her soft blue eyes, feeling his resolve weaken as he took in her innocent offering. He kicked off his shoes and quickly slipped under the sheets. Clarke immediately shifted closer to Bellamy, slipping her way into the space next to him. He stiffened as he felt her warm arms slip around his waist. Heat seemed to radiate through the worn fabric of his shirt.

He looked down at her head which rested on his chest. He wanted to say something to make the guilt in his chest disappear, but only three words seemed to come in mind. He listened as her breaths seemed to even out, signaling that she was asleep before letting the words spill out.

"I'm sorry, Clarke."

* * *

**A/N: Please feel free to leave comments or reviews! They are definitely welcome.**


	11. Chapter 11-Shattered Walls

**A/N: Hi Everyone, I do want to apologize for the "radio silence" with this chapter. Lately, with everything happening in my real life, I have been hitting a wall with this story. I know the main points and where I want to end up with the plot, but haven't worked out the smaller details. I have also been thinking of a couple other stories and have written the start of one. I do want to finish this one before posting because I know I won't be able to focus on several stories. **

**Enjoy Everyone! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100. The story is rated M for adult themes and will feature spoilers. **

Dreamlife by Sleeping At Last

Crooked mouth, quiet down  
Let your fists come undone  
Miscarried love will be reborn  
When we sleep, the devil's arms are tied

The war that we're fighting  
has already been won

Resolutions- Chapter 11- Shattered Walls

"Clarke… Clarke, wake up," someone whispered in her ear. She shivered as she felt Bellamy's warm breath spread over neck.

"Mmm," she groaned and stretched her legs, testing the soreness in her body. She winced, and tried to curl back up against Bellamy.

"Clarke, you do realize that you are squeezing the shit out of my stomach?"

"I don't even care right now?" she said grumpily. Bellamy chuckled lightly at her.

"Not that I would ever complain about having you press up against me, but it's time to get up. I wouldn't mind a rain check though." He gave her a sly smile, watching as she rolled her eyes and moved away from him.

"Well, now you ruined it." She slowly pushed herself into a sitting position. Ouch, she thought as she felt the muscles in her back spasm. She rolled off of the mattress and clumsily clambered up.

"You good, Princess?"

"I'm fine," she snapped. He gave her a pitying look that she chose to ignore. "Why do we have to get up again?"

"Meeting with their Commander. As soon as you're ready, we can leave."

"We can go now. It's not like I'm going to get a shower or, hell, a wet cloth."

"Wow," he said in amazement, "You're in fine form today. They did leave some food if you want to eat first."

"No, thank you. I don't think I can stomach it right now." Clarke could see the overbearing look cross Bellamy's face. "And don't try to convince me. My throat hurts too much."

"Fine. Rivo returned last night. He will escort us over." Bellamy headed over to the tent flap and held it open for Clarke.

Fresh pine and moisture immediately assaulted Clarke's senses. Small droplets of rainwater fell on her face. It felt reinvigorating and helped prepare Clarke for the upcoming meeting.

Rivo led Bellamy and Clarke towards the center of the camp where Lexa's tent towered over the rest of the grounds.

Clarke hesitated before entering. She had to admit to herself that she was worried. One moment of weakness could cause this treaty to crumble apart. Clarke stepped into the tent after she composed herself. She glanced around the tent in search of Lexa.

The thin Grounder woman was lounging on a bed of soft pillows. She stood as up as she noticed Clarke enter the tent. Her glassy, emerald eyes scanned Clarke's body. Clarke held her head high as Lexa took note of her awful appearance.

"Clarke, I'm glad to see you are alright."

"Yes, I am. I think I have one of your soldiers to thank for that."

"Rivo informed me of what happened with Quint. I'm sorry that you had to deal with that. If your warrior step outsides, I wish to speak with you about what happened before we deal with Quint." Bellamy opened his mouth to argue. "It must be alone," she added.

"I want Bellamy to be here for this."

"I'm not going to harm you, Clarke. I know it might be hard to imagine after all you have gone through, but I want to work with you."

Clarke tilted her head to the side as she analyzed Lexa. The young Grounder leader seemed to have changed her stride. Unknown troubles fatigued her powerful presence. Dark circles darkened the copper-colored skin underneath her eyes.

"What's going on Lexa?"

"I…I will discuss it in private." She gave Bellamy a hard look. Clarke followed her gaze to Bellamy. He looked at her in annoyance as if he could tell what she was thinking.

"I'll be just outside the tent," he said gruffly. He looked at Clarke but spoke to Lexa. "I'll be able to hear if you need me, Princess." The corner of Clarke's mouth twitched up before smoothing into a blank line.

"That sounds good." Clarke watched as he left the tent before turning to Lexa. "Now, what's going on?"

"There are some things that I must know about last night before we act."

"But there is more to this, right?"

"Yes, but I want to hear your story before we proceed. Tell me what happened."

Clarke hesitated. Clearly, Lexa was upset over something. If she answered Lexa's questions, maybe she would finally understand what was going on.

"Bellamy left for part of the day with Rivo. I'm not sure how much time passed, but Quint entered. I had a blade stuck in my boot, so I pulled it out. Quint said that you sent him. I should have questioned him considering everything. I lowered the blade and turned to put it in my bag. He must have rushed me. That's pretty much it."

"Clarke, I can see your torn clothes." Clarke's eyes darted towards Lexa, then narrowed. Though her questions were gentle and sympathetic, her eyes told Clarke another story. There was a vindictive twinkle hidden in her green irises.

"Nothing happened. Bellamy and Rivo arrived quickly."

"It's good to hear that. Very good." Clarke frowned at the relief that seemed to appear on Lexa's face.

"Can you let me know what is going on now?" Lexa looked at her with deep contemplation before turning around.

"Clarke, many of the warriors from the camp are not part of my tribe. There are seven tribes here at the camp. There are warriors from the water, mountain, desert, lake, nomads, boat, and the tree tribe. We were prepared to march to your camp and destroy you, but luckily you waved the white flag first. It's made things complicated, but I am glad it happened."

Clarke nodded in acknowledgment to her words.

She continued without turning around, "There are other leaders, but they decided that I should lead them all. I've found out that many of the other tribes are questioning my leadership, because of you. They believe that your people are weak and should burn like you burned my people. They also worry about me joining forces with you. They believe that I will die if you join us."

"We aren't going to go back on our word."

Lexa whipped her body around, turning towards Clarke, frustration burning in her eyes. "You would be dead before that would truly affect us. Quint's attempt on your life was the solution to a much bigger problem."

"Clearly, he wants to eliminate a threat, but if you aren't worried about us going back on our word, what are you concerned about?" Clarke questioned. Her eyebrows rose as she realized that maybe this had to do with their past. The amount of damage their brief history had with the Grounders could take years to undo. There was so much pain from both sides, and so many problems unsolved.

"I'm not sure." There was something in Lexa's eyes that made Clarke not believe her. Frustration crept into Clarke. She just wanted a simple answer, but Lexa kept hiding something from her.

"We need to find a way to stop them from viewing us that way. We need to seem stronger," she trailed. "Something that will bring us together and will keep the backlash away from you too."

Something crossed Clarke's mind. She realized that she never formally agreed to the treaty, nor had they gone through the necessary changes in their agreement.

"Lexa, we need to take a step back. I want the treaty to get ironed out before we talk about other things."

"We have more pressing matters than dealing with the semantics of the treaty." She argued. Her eyes turned stony and dark.

"If we can't reach an agreement, it is a moot point to worry about how to bring our groups together."

Lexa paced away from Clarke before turning towards her again.

"Fine, continue." She gestured towards Clarke, a look of absolute disdain on her face.

"Once we agree to this treaty, I want you to bring someone to write up the details of it." Lexa nodded quickly; impatience resided in every part of her body.

Clarke continued. Her voice conveyed a steeliness that she hoped Lexa heard. "We will agree to the terms as long as we have an orphaned child. There will be someone from our camp to remain with her while she is here. If they report any inconsistencies in her treatment or trouble, we have the right to retrieve her. You raise your children as warriors. I understand the necessity, but this child will remain untouched by war until she is 15 years old." Lexa frowned in discontentment as she listened to Clarke.

"I want to make it clear to you Lexa that I want this treaty and our future relationship to be successful. This treaty will protect your interest as well as ours. A clause will need to be written that the Sky People will not invade or attack your camps. We will only take the amount of supplies agreed upon or traded. We also need to decide on a punishment for violators that both parties can agree on. Murder and executions can't be the solution when someone steps out of line. We will compromise on some things, but I can't agree to killings every time something happens.

"My final thing is that you need to understand the relationship of my people. We work differently than you do. This includes my relationship with Bellamy and the men that you sent back to camp yesterday."

Clarke felt exhausted as she finished talking. Had it really only been a day since she had sent Jaha and Kane back to Camp Jaha?

Lexa eyed her, taking in Clarke's forms. She recognized the strong stance, straight back, and fierce eyes. A small smile appeared on her lips before slipping back into a straight line. If Clarke had blinked, she would have missed it.

"How do you work?" The curiosity in her tone made Clarke relax slightly.

"Men and woman are leaders, including Bellamy and I. We work together in making decisions about the 100. That means that in our interactions with you, he could be here in my place." Lexa frowned again as she realized that Bellamy and Clarke were considered equals. It felt foreign to Lexa that a leader who is a woman would lower herself to another person.

"And there is nothing going on between you?" Clarke blinked several times, again taken aback by the suggestion.

"Like I told you before, we work together."

"Leaders don't work with others. They make the hard decisions to accomplish their tasks. Can you honestly say that you do that with your warrior's input flitting in and out of your ear?" Clarke bristled as she heard the mocking tenor in Lexa's voice.

"I will do whatever needs to be done to save my people. Now, can you accept that?"

"You could be better, Clarke. You will learn soon that this world has no place for weakness."

"Your definition of weakness is different from mine. Accept the deal or let us leave."

Clarke consciously forced her eyes to stare Lexa down.

Clarke was not weak and felt angry at the blatant doubt from the Commander. The 100 had faced so much difficulty during their first month on the Earth; besides the Grounder attacks, the 100 were just learning to survive using the skills that had been useless for nearly a century. They had to build their camps, hunt for food, and while avoiding the dangers of the post-apocalyptic Earth. The fact that Lexa called her weak irked Clarke.

She knew that she had learned to survive through trials by fire without failing. She would not allow Lexa to diminish that.

After a painfully long pause, Lexa said, "I agree to your terms, Clarke."

Clarke's face broke into a small smile. Satisfaction spread through her body, finally resting in her chest. They had done it. The war with the Grounders had finally ended. Clarke felt like she could fly as the she comprehended the significance of this moment.

"Now, let's settle the other issues. My people don't respect you as a warrior. You need to prove to them that you aren't weak." She took in Clarke's narrowing eyes and continued. "The execution of Quint is occurring. He will feel your sword as it plunges into his heart." Lexa acknowledged the trepidation on Clarke's face and took a few steps closer to her.

Her voice was soft as she spoke to Clarke. "I know our world is different from yours, Clarke. We have had to survive, and that has toughened my people against death. They will respect your decisiveness and strength. They need to see you as I see you. You could be a warrior, but your principles are holding you back in our eyes." She reached forward and brushed away a loose curl. Her fingers brushed against the shell of Clarke's ear.

Clarke pulled back from Lexa. She turned away trying to hide her confusion over Lexa's affectionate gesture.

"I'll do it," she reluctantly agreed.

"It's for the best. Killing two birds with one stone. Now that we have that set, you can get your warrior. I have one more matter that requires your attention." Clarke looked at her curiously as the Commander beamed at her. "We are going to win this war, Clarke."

Clarke and Lexa walked out of the tent together.

"Bellamy," Clarke called, "We are ready." Bellamy snapped his head up. He was standing close to Rivo, apparently, in the middle of a deep conversation. Bellamy's eyes shifted between Clarke and Lexa before extending his right hand towards Rivo. Rivo gave a Bellamy a strange look before grasping his hand. Clarke watched curiously as they shook hands.

Bellamy let go of Rivo's hand and followed Clarke and Lexa.

"What's going on?" Clarke shrugged her shoulders at his question. She didn't have a clue.

Lexa silently led them to the outskirts of town before stopping in a tent. Clarke hesitated as she noticed the four Grounder's standing guard. She looked back at Bellamy before lifting the flap and entering the darkly lit tent. A roar of anger stopped her in her tracks as she looked around.

The tent was bare except for a large man thrashing around in swaddle of thick ropes. Lexa stepped beside her with Bellamy following

"What the hell?" He muttered roughly. Clarke took in the man's mutilated skin and the dried blood around his mouth.

"Reapers?" Clarke gasped, "You are keeping Reapers here."

"These Reapers were once not like this. This man's name used to be Penn. He was a warrior from Indra's village before the Mountain Men took him," Lexa said solemnly.

"They are making the Reapers?" she asked sharply.

"Yes."

"How?" Clarke insisted.

"We don't know. All we know is that they die after a few days of being locked up."

"How many days has he been in here?"

"Four days."

Clarke's eyes sought out Lexa's. Bewilderment made her blue eyes seem larger than they were.

"Are you saying that I am on a countdown to save this man's life?" Clarke spat in disbelief and anger.

"I'm saying that you are a healer. Heal him." Clarke's hands bunched into two small boulders of frustration. She took a deep sigh and walked over to the man.

A coat of sweat shone on his dirtied and bloodied skin. His chest heaved with each rattling breath.

"Have you given him anything?" Clarke asked impatiently.

"No."

"No water? What about food?"

"Nothing."

"He is sweating profusely, but your healers haven't given him water?" Clarke gave her a look of disgust.

"My people fear the Reapers. They didn't want to get close to him."

"Is he tied down well? I need to get near him."

"Yes."

"I will need a knife or something to cut his shirt off without cutting the ropes." Lexa nodded and headed out of the tent.

"Can you help him?" Bellamy asked softly.

"I have nothing to work with. I don't have sterile tools, or hell, tools. There's no information on what happened to him. If he lives, then it will be a miracle."

A look of pure determination crossed his face as Bellamy shook the muscles loose in his arms and rolled his shoulders forward. "Let's make a miracle happen then, Princess. What would you do first if you were back at the dropship?"

"Check for the physical symptoms." She moved closer to the man and lightly touched his skin. "He has a fever. A high one. Sweating profusely and showing signs of chills. There is blood on his skin, but I don't know if it is his or another person's blood. Bellamy, do you have water?" He handed her the small drinking case that was sitting in his pocket. She used her teeth and tore another strip of fabric from her shirt, immediately drenching the rag in the luke-warm liquid from Bellamy's container.

She hesitated before lightly stroking the man's exposed hand. His body shivered, and he pulled back away from her.

"I need you to hold him." Bellamy immediately grabbed the man's arm and held it steady. Clarke took a deep breath before touching his skin with the rag. The man shook throwing his head back and releasing a pained scream. His head swayed left to right before settling on Clarke. He struck out baring his teeth, but Bellamy pushed her back before they made contact with her skin.

Clarke watched in horror as he began to shake.

"He's having a seizure!" She ran her hands over his arm and neck, searching for the cause of the man's pain. Her hands froze on the raised needle marks. "They are injecting the Grounders with something."

"Do you think its drugs?"

"Yes, he must be withdrawing. We need to cut him loose. Where is Lexa with that knife?" Clarke exclaimed.

"You didn't bring yours?"

"It's too dull!"

"Give it to me!" Clarke quickly handed the blade to Bellamy. He gripped part of the rope and roughly began sawing through it. The strain of cutting the line became apparent as his muscles bulged from exertion and his knuckles turned white over the handle of the blade. After several shaky moments, Bellamy managed to cut the last part of the rope away from Penn.

As the rope around the Grounder fell slack, Clarke realized their mistake; untying the man was necessary but still too dangerous. As she leaned over his body to pull his hands up, the Reaper grew conscious, and the tremors in his body stopped.

Clarke cried out as his hands immediately tangled into her hair, anchoring her body to him. Clarke's scalp burnt from the Reaper tossing her around like a rag doll. She could hear Bellamy yelling. Hands grabbed and pulled at her body. She felt a final sharp tug on her hair before someone forcefully removed the Reapers' hands.

She pushed away from the arms wrapped around her but stopped as she recognized the man's muscled limbs as Bellamy's. She quickly scanned him over, noticing that he had minor wounds but didn't appear to have any serious injuries. There was a small bruise on his cheek and a long scratch on his bicep.

Clarke tore her eyes away from Bellamy and focused on the Grounder. Two of the guards from outside of the tent had stepped in and were standing over the Reaper's body where he convulsed on the floor. Apparently, the seizures had returned with a vengeance and had incapacitated the man.

Clarke rushed forward and turned him to his side as vomit flew from his mouth. She looked up and scanned the room. Lexa stepped into the room with a grim look on her face.

"He is dying. It won't be long now," she said.

Clarke's mind raced from one thought to another, trying to figure out how to save him. Clarke thought back to the time that she was on the Ark. She remembered her mom talking about a teenager who managed to get her hands on Blue Ivor. That was back when her father was still alive.

Her mom had come home in a huff about the case. She could practically hear her mom's tone rising higher and higher from having to misuse the resources on this girl.

_"Where do they even get the resources to find these drugs, "Abby exclaimed._

_"Teenagers are inventive. You know that better than anyone else."_

_"But now she is dying. I can't give her anything to ease her suffering. Kane advised me to let her die, but she is only two years older than Clarke. What if Clarke makes the same mistake? Someone else would let her die because the Ark doesn't have the supplies to save people."_

_Clarke watched as her father stepped closer to her mother. His arms circled around her waist and pulled her closer to him._

_"Clarke is smart and too stubborn to mess up her life like that," he said comforting while nuzzling his face into her hair._

_"I've resuscitated this girl twice. I just don't want to let her die..."_

Clarke's eyes widened as she remembered the solution.

"He has to die," she shouted. Bellamy looked at her confusion.

"You want to do what?"

"He's seizing. I can't help him when he is like this, but I can bring him back to life." Lexa looked at her blankly.

Clarke walked over and flipped him onto his side. She sat back on her knees and waited.

The atmosphere in the tent was tense and hushed as they watched the large man writhe on the floor. His body arched sharply in the air before falling silent.

Clarke immediately launched towards him. She pushed her finger into his mouth, checking it for any obstructions before pushing him onto his back and moving his head up. Using the heel of her hands, she pressed hard against his chest.

One, two, three, four, she counted. Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen…

"Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty," she breathed. Clarke pinched his nose, pressed her mouth tightly to his, and blew two quick breaths into his mouth.

She continued the process two more times unsuccessfully. Clarke was beginning to worry that she couldn't save the man. She tried one more time.

"Ten, Eleven, Twel-," Clarke pulled sharply back as a rattling breath entered the man's body. She slumped back in relief.

"Is he alive?" Lexa asked in amazement.

"For now. Hopefully, he won't seize again. Bring a healer in here and have him standby in case this happens again. They can call me if something happens. The drugs are still in his body so restrain him, but keep his chest free. He will need water throughout the night to keep him hydrated," she muttered.

She could see Bellamy watching her. A look of respect and worry adorned his face. He extended his hand to her. Clarke brushed her hands on her muddied pants and placed hers in his. He pulled her to her feet before letting go.

She felt exhausted, but knew that they still had to deal with Quint. After that, she thought tiredly, I just want to sleep.

She watched as Lexa dealt her orders out to the Grounder warriors in the tent. Dread rose up in the gut of Clarke's stomach as she watched Lexa gesture to her.

Lexa smiled back at her and walked towards Clarke.

"Are you ready to go?" She asked.

Clarke hesitated before nodding her head.

* * *

**A/N: Hopefully, this chapter will sedate The 100 withdrawals that we are all having with the season finale.**

**I also wanted to ask your guys' opinion on upcoming scenes. This story is rated M for lemons. They are graphic, detailed, and potentially blush-worthy. I would not give warnings prior to the chapter because I don't want to spoil anything for readers. So I'm leaving it up to you. Should I censor the story or not? Please let me know!**

**Feel free to leave comments and reviews!**


	12. Chapter 12-Resistance

**A/N: Enjoy Everyone! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100. The story is rated M for adult themes and will feature spoilers. **

Stars by The XX

But if stars, shouldn't shine  
by the very first time  
Then dear, it's fine, so fine by me  
'Cos we can give it time  
So much time  
with me

Resolutions- Chapter 12- Resistance

Clarke stopped. The cool steel blade felt heavy in her hands. It dragged her arm down and weakened her.

I_ can't do this. I don't want to end this man's life to satisfy some greater need._ She took a step away from Quint's kneeling body. She looked behind her. On one side, Lexa's eyes watched her every move. Her sharp, angular cheekbones and the pursing of her lips locked Clarke in place.

On the other side, she could see Bellamy standing there, watching and waiting. His arms were tightly crossed against his chest, and his mouth was set in a grim line. Disapproval seemed to set over every hard line in his stance.

_We do what we must to survive._ She turned around and looked at Quint's kneeling body. There were no pained goodbyes or tears. Just silence. She tilted the blade so that little crystals of rainwater dropped on to the crudely cut edge. He had to die. It was the only way.

_I'm sorry, Bellamy._ With her feet scraping against the ground, Clarke readied herself and began to lunge forward, but stopped short as Quint's head turned up sharply.

Looking towards his Commander, Quint said, "I did what I had to, but I wasn't alone." Lexa snaked forward. Pure fire burned in her eyes as she looked down at the man before her.

"Tell me who helped you, Quint. I will make your passing quick if you give me the information I want." Quint's eyes looked at her unwavering before looking over her shoulder.

"Gustus," he murmured softly. Lexa took a step away from Quint and looked over her shoulder at Gustus. A look of pain flitted across her face before she schooled her expression into a ruthless fury.

Gustus was frozen nearby. Fear and confusion seemed to flash across his face as well as a spark of pure betrayal. Lexa turned towards Clarke, took the blade from her hand, and quickly lopped off Quint's head.

Clarke could feel the nausea grow as she watched Quint's head slide away from his neck and roll into the mud near her feet. His empty, glassy eyes stared up at her. Clarke looked back at the man's fallen body. Blood and muddy water stained the ground and seeped towards her.

The cold-bloodedness of Lexa's attack shook her. She was stuck on the attack, but Lexa was already focusing on Gustus's betrayal.

"String him up!" Lexa yelled.

Her guards immediately dashed forward and pulled Gustus to a thick tree trunk. Lexa paced angrily back and forth before her eyes settled on her warrior.

"Why?" She said, with the knife extended towards his throat.

"This alliance would cost you your life, Heda." Clarke regarded the crowd as they began to murmur. Lexa looked over her shoulder at Clarke. She gestured for her to come forward.

"Your treachery will cost you yours, Gustus," she spat. "Take your kill, Clarke."

She held the handle of the blade out. Clarke looked at Lexa. As she moved past, Lexa whispered, "This kill will be quick." Clarke pulled back and could see the hard glint in Lexa's eyes. She nodded and walked forward.

Clarke held the blade in front of her. She swallowed back her own feelings as she slowly pushed the sharp edge of the blade into Gustus. She heard the sickening suction sound from the sharp edge sliding into him.

He gurgled and gasped for air. She pulled the knife out and watched as crimson blood trickled out of the wound and fell on her hand. She resisted the urge to scrub away the wetness that dripped on her. Quint's body slumped against the rope.

The next moments passed quickly. Clarke was on autopilot as she listened to Lexa speak to her people. The slim Grounder woman gesticulated wildly, leading to the cheers of her people before she dismissed the crowd. After she had finished her speech, she walked over to Clarke.

"This is the turn in the tide, Clarke. My people won't question you again." Clarke nodded her head mutely in answer.

"You can return to your tent. I'm assuming that you will soon leave for your camp to organize your warriors. I will send a group with you to help your men and woman prepare for battle.

"Thank you," Clarke said. In her mind, she knew she had to keep it together. Be strong; don't falter, she thought. The Grounders were looking for weakness, and if she let her inner feelings loose, then they would know how rattled she was over the death of Gustus and Quint.

She turned around and nearly ran into Bellamy's chest. He stepped back and let her pass. She could hear the swift padding of his feet on the ground. Choosing to ignore him, she made quick work of getting back to their tent.

It wasn't until they were alone, that she let her thoughts swallow her. She threw herself onto the ground and wrapped her arms around her stomach as if she could contain the disgust over the murders of those men.

"Clarke!" Clarke looked up startled and irritated, but quickly pushed down those feelings when she took in Bellamy's face.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Bel."

"I called your name four times."

"I'm just thinking. There is a lot to do."

"Talk to me." Clarke watched as he sat down in front of her with his long legs stretched out in front of him. She nearly smiled as he reclined back looking more like a teenager than the man she knew he was.

"I killed one man with my hands. The other one died because of me. Is it strange that I feel guilt?"

"They did try to kill you."

"But not while I was killing them. This wasn't about survival or trying to win a war. This was an execution. I did it because I knew their deaths would serve my purpose. I felt like I had to do this, or the alliance would die."

"Well, don't let Lexa bring you into their politics. I know she convinced you that it was necessary, but you don't have to."

"It feels like I do." He looked at her then clasped his hands in front of him. A thoughtful expression crossed his face as he stared at his hands.

"With every second that I see you in this place, I see you lose part of yourself. You're changing to fit Lexa's needs and aren't listening to your own instincts."

"I'm doing it for the 100."

"There is no way that we aren't getting the 100 back, Clarke. It is a done deal, but by that time, you will be lost in the bullshit mess that you are creating now."

"Who we are and who we have to be are two different things," she quoted.

"But at the end of the day, who we have to be can haunt us." He watched her eyes narrow with stubbornness. Her mouth parted in rebuttal. "You don't have to be this way to get our people back. This is your choice. Lexa's using you as a pawn for her needs, and you don't see that. You've got to wake up, Clarke! Her motives and yours might align, but they aren't the same. If you think that, then you aren't thinking things through!"

Clarke's hands turned into balled fists. "I'm not an idiot. I know what she is doing!"

"Really? And what is she doing, wise Princess?" Clarke stood and took two swift steps forward. Bellamy shadowed her movement until there were only a few inches between their faces.

"Don't call me that," she gritted angrily. She was pissed at him. She hated how he seemed to always be pointing out the faultiness in her logic when she could already see where the problems lay.

Bellamy leaned forward, overwhelming Clarke with his stance. She could practically feel the heat rolling off of him in waves.

"What are you going to do about it, Princess?" His mouth drew out the s's in Princess in a mocking way.

"I'm done with this conversation," she rasped. She tried to pull away from him, but he wouldn't let her. His hand reached out and grasped her wrist.

"I don't think so, Princess. I think you just trying avoid this conversation because it is making you think about things you wish you could forget. You just murdered someone for the sake of an alliance, and you want me to let it go, but I won't, Clarke. Not if it means losing you. When all is said and done, do you think you can be proud of everything you did here. When your actions come back, will they crush you because you can't disappear on me. I need you here leading our people back to safety."

"I will be."

"Good, because I am not going to make it easy on you if you do run. You didn't let me leave when I felt guilty over the three hundred executions. Neither will I."

Bellamy slowly leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her. Clarke stiffened underneath his embrace. Bellamy wasn't an affectionate human being, but with this trip, Clarke could feel something shifting in their relationship.

She pulled back a little in his arms and looked up into his dark, brown eyes. Warmth radiated from them. She felt comforted by the feeling of his hands on her lower back, but confused by the turmoil in his eyes.

Her heart stuttered in her chest, and her eyes widened as she noticed him looking at her lips. She subconsciously leaned closer to him. Her own eyes darted towards his mouth and locked on to the little scar over his lips and the upturned corners of his mouth. Her breath rose and fell quicker in her chest as she noticed that his mouth was gradually coming towards her.

Her eyelids flickered shut when she felt his warm breath across her face. She felt the feather-light brush of lips before he pulled back, gauging her reaction.

The small touch had sent a rush of pinpricks towards her lips that she couldn't help but love.

She opened her eyes and stared at him for a long moment before she wrapped her small hand behind his neck and roughly pulled him towards her. When she felt his soft lips press gently against hers, she sighed at the relief it gave her.

There was something sweet and innocent in the kiss. His mouth was hot and sent sparks through her, but gentle and unrelenting. Each motion was a question; a gentle exploration of the other person's mouth. The electricity in her skin was searing and all-consuming. She felt his mouth open to her, and she reciprocated. His large hands pulled her closer as he deepened the kiss.

A minute or a day could have passed, and she wouldn't have realized it. She was trapped in the here and now with Bellamy as his hands slowly rubbed up and down her spine, and his tongue swept into her mouth. Her tongue timidly traced his.

She nearly smiled as she heard the small groan escape him. In retaliation, his hands moved to her hips and dug into the soft curves there. It was her turn to gasp at the feeling of his fingers pressing into her flesh, nearly making her pant into his mouth.

"Clarke, Bella-." Octavia stopped short as she took in the sight of her brother's lips pressed against Clarke's.

Clarke and Bellamy pulled away sharply at their names being called by the other Blake sibling. Clarke blushed dark red at the intrusion.

"Octavia? What are you doing here?" Bellamy asked her. Clarke had to give him props; he didn't stutter or seem as out of breath as her voice would have been if she had spoken up.

"I'm here for Clarke. Lexa requested a bath to be drawn for her as an apology for the attack last night, I guess. I'm going to go with her, and will stay there so we won't worry about anyone getting into trouble. Unless you want to bathe together," she said mockingly.

Clarke blushed again but tried to ignore the comment. She couldn't help but let a tiny grin stretch across her face despite the awkward tension in the room. Her desperate need to feel clean again, completely overshadowed the fact that Octavia caught them.

Clarke ignored Bellamy's uneasiness, grabbed the clothes from her bag, and blindly followed Octavia. They were both quite as they walked into a tent. Clarke looked in amazement at the large stone bath with steaming wisps rising out of it.

"Did they make this?" Clarke asked.

"I'm not sure, but probably. In the village where I stayed, there was a public bathing house. They heated up the water using hot stones." She looked at Clarke in amusement. Clarke walked over to the water and swirled the tips of her fingers in it. The water was just a little too hot. Clarke's mouth curled up into a wide, beaming smile.

On the Ark, the water was luke-warm at its' hottest temperature. Heating it up would cause it to steam, and that would be horribly wasteful. Anticipation over soaking in the bath flooded through her.

"So are we going to ignore what I just saw," Octavia asked with her trademark side-smirk. Clarke blinked at her in surprise. She carefully turned away and shed her clothes.

"Octavia, it's not that important. We—"

"Were just taking," Octavia filled in while rolling her eyes at the blonde woman. "That's an unusual position to talk to someone in. Either you were trying to telepathically exchange thoughts through physical contact, which would be a pretty useful trick, or you guys like each other."

"Okay, I know it looked bad, but—" Clarke began, but was interrupted by Octavia again.

"Bad… You think that kissing Bellamy would be considered bad," she said with a frown. Clarke sighed and stepped into the water, nearly groaning at the feeling of the clean, almost scalding hot water on her skin.

"Octavia, I didn't mean it like that, but a kiss with Bellamy would mean nothing. What you saw in the tent was nothing."

"Nothing?"

"You know, Bellamy. He isn't the type to care about one girl."

"Look, Clarke. You know Bellamy pretty well. Better than most, but you are completely wrong about him. He is the commitment type."

"Yeahhhhh," she drew sarcastically, "I could totally tell he was the commitment type when he kept popping out of his tent with a new girl every night or so."

"Those flings were nothing, Clarke."

"Just like I would be nothing." Octavia scoffed in response.

"Bellamy is my brother, but he has always been more than that. My mom pretty much abandoned the two of us because she had to feed us; even if that meant whoring herself out to the highest bidder. My brother raised me. He read me bedtime stories and taught me how to write. Bellamy talked about our people's history and made sure I knew how to do math. He showed me pictures of the earth and stars. He gave me the best life possible. It wasn't my mom who calmed me down when I first got my period; it was Bellamy. You said that Bellamy couldn't commit and hasn't, but that is a load of crap. He was one hundred percent committed to me and my mom. He even lost his life for us." She looked down and snorted in disgust.

"He didn't get to have anyone else or a girlfriend because he was a kid in the poorest part of the Ark. He was 'Factory Station kid.' And then, he had to worry about me staying hidden. When they found me, he was demoted to a janitor. How many woman do you think would want him after all that? He was lonely and just lost everything that he knew." She looked at Clarke beseechingly. "Are you really surprised that when he got on Earth, he went a little overboard with company?"

"It doesn't mean he will want a relationship, O."

"Bellamy might be overbearing and kind of a jerk, but he is the best person in the world. He doesn't care for someone lightly and then toss them away in the next minute. He loves and will adore them with his whole heart. He would go to hell and back for them. I see that he cares for you. It was pretty fucking obvious by the way he was looking at you, and if you throw that away because you are afraid that he will cheat on you or leave you, then you are a fool. He would love you, Clarke, even when things got hard."

"Octavia..." Clarke trailed off, at a loss for words with Octavia's confession.

"You know, Clarke. Despite the fact that you are making every excuse possible, you have never once said that you don't like Bellamy. Who are you trying to convince, 'cause I don't think it's me."

Clarke opened her mouth to argue. "Save it, Clarke. Are you done with the water?"

Clarke quickly turned away and scrubbed her hair and body, watching as the crystal clear water turned brown with dirt. She stood up when she finished and stepped out of the water and towards her clean clothes.

She felt a swelling of regret over the conversation. She truly liked Octavia, but there was always something that seemed to interrupt the two of them getting closer. Clarke hated to admit that the problem was her, but it seemed like every choice pulled her farther away from her friends and family.

Clarke bent down and picked up a long-sleeved cotton shirt. She began sliding it over her head, forgoing her bra. "I know Bellamy is great. Anyone can see that, but with the Raven and Finn stuff, I don't want to try and claim something that might not be mine."

She slid a clean set of panties up her legs then retrieved the stiff jean pants on the floor. Quickly, she shoved them on.

"I thinking you are underestimating Bellamy. There is a big age difference between my brother and Finn."

"It's not that big of an age difference."

"Let's get real Clarke. Bellamy is light years ahead of Finn. No offense, but he is not the sharpest sword in the armory."

"He's not that bad."

"He tried to cheat on Raven. Out of all the girls from the drop ship, including you, she scares me the most. Not the smartest thing to do." Clarke hummed nonchalantly.

Octavia's eyes pierced Clarke's, causing her to freeze.

"Just think about it. I just want what's best for my brother." Clarke looked away from Octavia's eyes.

"I do too," she said solemnly. The two moved around each other quietly as they cleaned up. During the walk back to the tent, Clarke remembered that she had wanted to ask Octavia something when they were alone.

"Octavia, when you saw me at the village. You were upset about something you couldn't tell Bellamy and I. It's been bothering me." She said slowly. Wrinkles appeared on the furrow of Octavia's brow as she stared at Clarke.

A heavy sigh escaped her before she said, "Lincoln's a Reaper. The Mountain Men managed to turn him into one of their savages. He attacked and killed a man."

"Are you sure?"

"One of our scouts spotted him dragging the man's body into a cave."

"That's good news then." Clarke said excitedly. She put her hand on the other girl's shoulder and waited until Octavia looked at her.

"We can save him. I promise. Just get him to me, and I will do the rest." She gave the girl a soft smile when she saw that small tears had formed in the corners of her eyes. She pulled Octavia into a hug and felt a little bit happier knowing that maybe she couldn't make everyone content, but at least she could try.

When they arrived back at the tent, Clarke invited Octavia to stay. Part of her didn't want to leave the young girl alone; the other part didn't want to be alone with Bellamy. She hadn't really had a chance to process anything that Octavia had said, and didn't want to deal with any of the awkwardness from Bellamy.

Octavia agreed and quickly dismissed Bellamy, telling him that Rivo would show him the tent with the bath. He looked at Clarke and Octavia. Seeing nothing that worried him, he left quickly.

Both Octavia and Clarke silently worked in the small space; Octavia sat on the ground sharpening small daggers that she tucked back into her clothes while Clarke sat on the make-shift bed with a bowl of fruit, courtesy of Lexa.

As she was putting down the bowl next to her, Bellamy walked in. Her hurt stuttered as she took in his freshly wet, tousled hair. Small beads of water dripped from the unruly curls.

"Well, aren't you looking, and smelling better," Octavia said teasingly; the twinkle in her eye complimented the mischievous tip of her lips.

"Yeah, I think I'm starting to feel like a person again," he joked. Clarke sat stonily on the floor, refusing to look at him.

After a moment, Octavia said, "Welllllll, I think I am going to catchup with Indra on the plan for tomorrow. I'll see you later. Bye, Clarke."

Clarke silently waved at Octavia's retreating form. Bellamy strode into the tent. He grabbed the other bowl of fruit and retrieved the rest of his rations from the trip. He sat down next to her.

The silence in the room crept around them like a heavy, thick blanket, cloaking the two in it's' uncomfortableness.

Bellamy broke the silence after a few minutes of eating. "Are you seriously going to act like this just because we kissed?"

She couldn't help feel the pang of hurt over his obvious dismissal of their kiss.

"I'm not acting any specific way. It was just a kiss."

He greeted her answer with silence. She wanted to look at Bellamy, but instead she rolled over on her side, and pretended to get ready to sleep.

She heard a harsh sigh escape him. He moved away from her and stood up. The clinking of their wooden bowls alerted her of his location near their bags.

"If it makes any difference, I wanted that to happen." She said nothing. He put his hand on her shoulder. Her body tensed under the surprisingly gentle touch.

"I care about you, Clarke." Clarke rolled over on the mattress and looked up at his face. There was no humor or sarcasm in his eyes. With regret, she noticed the weariness taking over his features.

"What does that even mean?" Her voice was small. She wished that she sounded stronger; that her voice didn't make her sound weak and scared, but her pounding heart reminded her that right at that moment, she was terrified of his answer.

Confusion fell over his face as he considered her question.

"It can mean whatever you want," his voice rasped. She nearly huffed at his answer. She wanted a definition to this change in their relationship. Instead, he answered with a vagueness that annoyed her.

"But what does that mean?" she pushed. He rolled his eyes at her.

"It means that you are a pain in the ass, but you're my partner. I worry about you and want you to be safe."

"Oh," she said.

"Jesus, Clarke. I can hear you thinking from all the way over here. Let's just go to sleep, Princess." She watched as he kicked off his boots and removed his shirt and pants. Before this trip, she would have gotten angry at him for removing his clothes in front of her, but slowly and surely she had gotten used to it, and learned to ignore it.

But that was before the actual kiss. Now, she could feel how that moment had changed everything.

Her cheeks reddened as she stared at the hard tanned muscles in his arms and legs. Her eyes dragged from his bare feet, towards his lean legs, up to his black boxers. Her eyes quickly darted higher over each dip and groove of his abs before scanning over his muscular triceps.

She wished that she could say that he didn't notice her obvious ogling, but as her eyes locked onto his face, she could see the pursing of his smirking lips and the humor that danced in his eyes.

Luckily, he didn't say anything. Instead, he knelt on the bed of furs and slipped underneath the largest pelt. Clarke followed his lead, and nearly sighed in relief at being able to lie down after a stressful day.

She heard Bellamy shifting around behind her. Something brushed against her calf, and she flinched. She heard Bellamy move again, trying to get comfortable. Large hands wrapped around her body and pulled her towards him. She began to squirm in his grip.

"Wha—" She began.

"We are going to end up pressed together anyways. I'm just saving us time," he said indifferently. Clarke rolled her eyes, but shut her mouth, and closed her eyes. Her body began relaxing into the shape of his body.

She could feel herself becoming soothed by his hands wrapped around her midsection, the heat radiating onto her back, and the feel of his gentle breath on her neck.

With Bellamy pressed to her, she felt herself slip into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

**A/N: Did you love it? Hate it? As always, feel free to leave a comment. I d****on't know about other writers, but for me, getting a great review is like candy in a postapocalyptic world. Can't get enough of it.**


	13. Chapter 13-Closure

**A/N: Hi Everyone. Recently, I have not been posting chapters. Real life and a serious case of writer's block have gotten in the way of me posting. I won't be uploading chapters every week for a while, but hopefully, I will get at least two chapters out every month. Thanks for sticking with me reviewing, favoriting, and following this story. It has been great seeing people appreciate the story. Enjoy Everyone! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100. The story is rated M for adult themes and will feature spoilers.**

I Know You Care by Ellie Goulding

I know you care  
I know it is always been there  
But there's trouble ahead, I can feel it  
You are just saving yourself when you hide

Yeah, I know you care  
I see it in the way you stare  
As if there was trouble ahead and you knew it  
I'll be saving myself from the ruin  
And I know you care

Resolutions- Chapter 13- Closure

Steam practically poured out of Clarke's ears as she ranted. "We've had three days to come up with a plan of attack, and nothing," she exclaimed viciously.

Raven looked at her sympathetically while her companion, Wick, avoided eye-contact by burying his nose in some contraception he was working on.

"I mean, I get it, but this is ridiculous. Lexa's troops will get here tomorrow. She is expecting something, but we have nothing to give her," she continued. "And you know why?"

Raven opened her mouth to say something, but it became lost in Clarke's shouting. "Because of the adults. Kane, and my mom, and the goddamn council are getting our people killed so that they can 'choose the most appropriate action' while the 100 are dying."

"Clarke! Calm the hell down. We want our people out, but we need to know what's going on in there."

Clarke turned her ire on Raven. With her hands on her hips and her eyes full of wrathful fire, she barked, "Well, have you figured anything out?"

Raven arched a brow at Clarke's snappy tone. "I've been working on this piece of junk for a while," she said while holding up a shattered radio. Clarke saw Wick's shaggy blonde head of hair lifting in the corner of her eye.

"I've told you how to fix it, Reyes," he said gently as if he was talking to a young child.

"If I took your advice it would have shot the electrical work," she retorted.

"Not if you let me do it."

"Then it definitely would have shot the electrical work," she growled.

"Or it would have been fixed two days ago when I told you how to fix it."

"It's not just about fixing it. It's also about this damn signal-"

Clarke looked at Raven in confusion. "What signal?" Clarke enquired. Raven huffed and flung the radio on her workbench. She ignored Wick's sarcastic comment about throwing the radio down onto the table and flipped a switch on a partially scorched, completely battered piece of machinery. Clarke froze as a noise filtered into the room in a repetitive pattern.

"What is that?"

"Mount Weather."

"Wait a second. Isn't that the same sound from the black box on the Exodus Ship?"

"Yep," Raven said grimly.

"So they had something to with the crash?"

"Sort of. The signal forms a block against certain frequencies that can cause malfunctions along different electrical pathways. It would cause the landing gears to-" Wick stopped as he took note of the way that Raven glared at him with her slender arms crossed tightly against her chest. The scowl on her face could have sent a shiver through any man.

"That's what I think," Raven said quietly, "but it also means that Mount Weather is interfering with our communications systems. There could be other survivors from the other Ark stations trying to get in contact with us, but we would never know it with their systems blocking us."

"Why am I only finding out about this now, Raven?"

Raven gave Clarke a hard look.

"I only found out about this problem yesterday. I've been trying to figure it out, and fix these damn radios, and try to get Camp Jaha's systems up and running, and try to keep the electricity running in the med bay, while wiring the electric fence around the camp." Clarke shook her head angrily.

"We needed this information sooner," Clarke exclaimed. She slammed her hands down on the metallic worktable. "This could have changed the Council's mind days ago."

"Clarke—"

"Focus on that signal, Raven. Everything else is a lower priority." She turned and started to storm away. She caught Wick's eye and looked over her shoulder. "And use Wick for the other stuff. We don't have any more time to waste."

Clarke swiftly turned away, ignoring the annoyed grumblings from Raven and walked out of the small technology lab. She moved through the halls until she was outside of the Ark's walls, and took a deep breath.

She needed to find her mom.

She turned her gaze to her surroundings, squinting against the scorching sun. The morning held an odd calmness to it as people milled around sorting and organizing the camp underneath the careful protection of the guards. She could see the Ark soldiers lined against the camp's makeshift wall. Their eyes vigilantly monitored the woods for any movement.

Clarke turned towards the training yard of the camp. It was busier than normal. She recognized some of the faces there. A group of Grounders patiently watched the armed guards aim their guns at a target.

Clarke noticed Bellamy's tall, lean build mixed in with the group. His blue short sleeved shirt stood out amongst the other guards in their long, thick black shirts and dark, bulky pants.

She watched as he confidently pulled the gun up to his shoulder and nailed the target with three cleanly delivered shots.

He turned around and walked towards two men standing at the edge of the training ground. Clarke quickly recognized that the men were Kane and Rivo. She watched as Bellamy extended his gun towards Rivo.

With the gray rifle held in his hand, he hesitantly ambled towards the target and aimed at it. She saw Kane signal at him with a closed fist raised high in the air. Rivo awkwardly pulled his firearm up, attempted to line up the shot, and pulled the trigger, releasing two rounds.

Clarke inwardly cringed as she noticed how awful his aim was. He completely missed the target. Instead, the two metal shells buried themselves into a wooden post several feet away from where Rivo was aiming.

"I don't know why we are wasting bullets on the Grounders. Those savages shouldn't even be holding guns." Clarke glared over her shoulder at the lean boy with the hooked nose.

"They aren't savages, Murphy. They are survivors," she tried to clarify calmly.

"You've never been tortured by them, Princess. When you do, feel free to tell me how they aren't savages. We can trade stories. Hey, maybe we can even braid each other's hair," he sneered sarcastically.

"No one is telling you that you have to stay and watch. If it repulses you that much, feel free to leave the camp. For good."

"Now where's the fun in that?" Clarke looked at him angrily. She opened her mouth to argue, shut it, and walked away.

Unable to let it go, she whirled around and marched back towards him. "They thought we were the enemies and were willing to kill us so that they lived. You think that they are horrible for doing that, but just remember exactly what you were willing to do to survive."

Charlotte's, Myles', and Connor's faces swam in her mind as she glared at Murphy. She didn't say their names, but they both knew what she was thinking.

"I thought that Earth was a chance to start over, Princess," he called out.

"It was, but then you blew it," She twisted around and walked towards the makeshift medical area. She entered through the set of doors that led into the med bay. Her mom was quietly talking to an older Ark survivor who was sitting in a chair.

Abby gave a nod of acknowledgment towards Clarke but continued to talk with the woman. Clarke rested against the gray wall near the door until she saw Abby pat the woman's arm gently and began walking away. Clarke straightened up and met Abby in the middle of the room.

"I need to talk to you." Abby looked at Clarke wearily. "It has to be now."

"Okay," she said. "Come this way."

They left the room and went into the medical supply closet. Abby grabbed a few items off the table in the center of the room and automatically began sorting them.

"Mount Weather jammed our signal to the other stations."

Abby's hands stilled over the medical supplies and her eyebrows knit together as she looked at her daughter.

"Are you sure?"

"Raven found it."

"And there is no other explanation?"

"It's them, mom. She's one hundred percent sure of it. She also said that there might be other Ark survivors too, but we won't know as long as that signal is running."

"Is she trying to bring it down?"

"Yes, but mom, don't you see that this changes things. The council's indecisiveness needs to stop."

"It doesn't change a thing, Clarke. Not in the way that you are hoping. I know you want us to act quickly, but now that there is more at stake, we'll have to reconsider our plans of attack on Mount Weather."

"You can't be serious. We have to do something now. What if they find the other Ark stations before we do?"

Clarke's mom shook her head at Clarke. "We can't rush a decision like this. This needs to be carefully thought out. We will handle it in the next meeting. Just make sure that Raven keeps looking at that signal."

"The 100 will die if you do nothing."

"We can't risk anymore people with rash actions."

"So you won't risk other people but you will risk the forty-something teenagers inside Mount Weather? Their lives can be sacrificed?" She yelled. Her hands trembled as rage coursed through her body. Her mom wasn't going to help her at all. She couldn't see what Clarke saw. She didn't understand that Clarke needed to save them.

"Calm down, Clarke. We are doing what we can."

"You are doing nothing! Lexa's organizing her army to be here tomorrow, and yet our people are standing outside doing nothing to prepare."

"Clarke, we can't waste resources."

"When you sent us here, you sacrificed children to save the people from the Ark, but look around you. Only a fraction of the Ark actually survived making it to Earth. The children that you sent first were butchered in the first weeks, but we survived despite having no weapons or supplies. Instead of giving a damn about them, you are willing to sacrifice them again and again! They've proven themselves, but you are going to let them get slaughtered."

"We aren't sacrificing them this time. We will get them."

"How long will it take, mom? If you can't get the Council to act soon, there will be none of our people left."

Abby was quite as she watched her daughter fume.

Clarke hated how calm Abby was. She hated how easy she compartmentalized the deaths of the 100 as if they were nonessential to the Council's needs, and thus, unimportant to Abby. Clarke promised her friends that she would save them; that she would come back. They might not even be alive though. The anger seemed to deflate out of Clarke making her look much older than her actual age suggested.

Abby reached for Clarke, but she recoiled away from the gentle touch of her mother's hand.

"I promised that I was going to save them. I have to," Clarke whispered.

"We will get them, honey. Just give me a day. When the Grounders get here tomorrow, we will have a plan ready."

Clarke nodded hesitantly. She accepted the hug from Abby, letting the warm embrace swallow her up. Clarke pulled back, giving her mom a small smile.

"Please let me know when you hear from them."

Without another word, Clarke rushed away from her mother and strode outside of the room.

Her eyes immediately looked for Bellamy once she entered the courtyard. He was no longer near the guards although she did see that half of the guards had given their weapons to the Grounders and were attempting to teach them the complexities of firing the rifles.

"Hei, Princess."

Clarke turned in the direction of the deep voice. She smiled at the man in front of her. "Hei, Rivo."

"Bellamy's looking for you, Princess Clarke." His expression showed a seriousness that made Clarke smile as he talked to her.

"You can just call me Clarke," she said in amusement. "Where is he?"

"In his tent. He left about five minutes ago."

"Thank you, Rivo. Will I see you later at the bonfire celebration?"

"You will."

"Great. I'll see you then," she said. She took off quickly towards Bellamy's tent. She felt the eagerness in her swell at the thought of seeing Bellamy. He had been busy lately training the Grounders, so she had only managed to get a few glimpses of him in passing since they returned from camp.

If she was being honest with herself, she had to say that she missed him. She missed the conversations, the banter, the smattering of freckles against his cheekbones, and even that condescending half-smirk of his.

She also missed the nights that they spent sleeping together. Since they had gotten back to camp, she hadn't slept well. Her dreams were laced with nightmares that terrified her to the point that when she woke from them, she would always refuse to go back to sleep.

One night, she had woken thrashing and screaming in her tent. Rivo, who was her constant companion at night, threw open the entrance to her small tent and stepped in. His eyes wildly searched for danger before settling on her sweating, panting form. He hesitantly asked her if she was okay.

When she had replied that she was fine, he quickly left with a bashful expression on his face and an apology for barging in, but she saw how much that night affected him. The uneasiness resonating on in his face that night and the day after proved it.

She knew what he saw that night, and it terrified her more than the dreams of death and torture; he saw her weakness.

She made a pact the next day, refusing to let him see any more weakness. It was why she was on the brink of collapsing. Her body was practically running on fumes because she had stayed awake the night before.

Clarke stumbled on a rock in her hastiness to cross the camp, and stopped short to steady herself. She couldn't help but let a small smile slip onto her face as she looked up from the ground and realized that she was in front of Bellamy's tent. She immediately pushed open the entrance to his tent and stepped in.

"Bell—"

She stopped as soon as she took in Bellamy's tanned arms wrapped around a tall, thin, wisp of a girl. Bellamy looked up when he heard her voice, only pulling back a few inches from the dark-haired girl in his arms.

"Clarke," he called in surprise. She didn't wait to respond as she felt the betrayal brewing in her heart, but turned away and darted out of the tent.

A rush of heat made her dizzy as she sped away from the tent. She thought she could feel everyone looking at her as she weaved through the small group of people. She ducked her head down in embarrassment.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. She was so goddamn stupid.

She made it to the farthest side of the camp. She could still sense a pair of eyes watching her. Clarke moved automatically towards the edge of the fence. She began to follow the small path that led to the back of the camp; this was one of the few unmonitored areas in the encampment. The soldiers would occasionally scout it, but usually it was left alone with just the protection of the electric fence to protect the citizens of Camp Jaha. She continued to follow it until she lost sight of the guards and people milling around camp.

Anger burned in her chest and cheeks. She stopped short and began to pace. How many times had someone walked into a tent when they shouldn't have? They needed to build fucking doors or something to stop this shit from happening.

She slammed her fist into the metal wall of the Ark.

"Fuck!" she shouted as the pain raced through her hand. She looked down at her red knuckles and tenderly shook them out.

"Fuck," she sighed quietly. She leaned against the smooth metal of the Ark and slid down the wall, letting a quiet oomph escape her mouth when she landed on the softly packed dirt. Her fingers immediately spread along the dirt and searched for the jade tendrils of grass that were growing near her knees. She felt them brush against her palm and grasped the blades of grass.

She looked up at the sky and sighed. She spent so many days dreaming of this place, believing that her family would find peace on this planet, but that was a joke. It was clearly a mistake landing here.

At least I can feel the warmth of the sun here, she thought wistfully.

She tore a handful of the grass and held it up to her face. She examined each curve and rigid line in the grass, before throwing it down.

A handful of sticks caught her eye. She picked one up and gently flipped it around in her hand. She threw it and watched with interest as the stick smacked into the electric fence. It fell to the ground, completely untouched by the electricity. She reached for another stick to throw.

"Princess."

She stopped short with the stick still in her hand, looked up, and glared at Bellamy. Her eyes were lit with fire, brimstone, and restrained rage.

"Blake," she bit out angrily. He looked at her and sighed before taking a step closer.

"I'm not surprised that you're out here. At first, I thought you would be in your tent, but I couldn't find you. I looked around the yard. Still couldn't see you so I figured I would have to think harder. It was a very 'Where's Waldo' moment."

"What?" She asked in confusion.

"'Where's Waldo?' Wait, you don't know what— actually, never mind. Anyway, I figured that you were probably overthinking what you saw in my tent and wanted to be alone."

"Overthink? What was left up for interpretation?" she spat. "It was pretty obvious what was going on." She refused to look at him and the pitying look that would surely be resting on his handsome face.

"Clarke, when I told you that I liked you, I meant it. Mel was the girl we rescued on the cliffs when Finn and Murphy went to the village searching for you. She was thanking me and asking about Sterling. She knew him on the Ark. Even had a crush on him."

"You were shirtless."

"She came in while I was changing." Clarke finally looked up at her.

"You were hugging."

"She was crying. She misses Sterling and just lost her parents. She never had the chance to thank me, and I think it caught up to her."

"So nothing happened."

"No, Princess."

"Oh."

Bellamy sat down next to her. He lethargically stretched his legs out in front of him.

"So…," he said teasingly once he had settled.

Her fingers continued to tease the wisps of grass. Despite the fact that the boulder on her chest had lifted at his words, there were so many things that they hadn't discussed.

"So what?" she replied.

"Clarke, look at me." She sat stubbornly on the ground, refusing to look into his rich eyes.

"God, you are one of the most frustrating people, I've ever met." Clarke finally glared at him. The frown on her face grew as she looked at his face and saw that beneath his false bravado, something was wrong with him. She could see it in the slight downturned corners of his mouth, and creased lines on his forehead.

He was tired, she noted in surprise. The lack of sleep was apparent in his glassy eyes and the dark circles that rimmed his long lower lashes. His eyes, usually so warm and expressive, seemed dull.

His gaze trapped her in place. Everything grew still except the drumming of her heart; that pesky part of her seemed to grow in strength until all she could hear was the pounding of it in her ears. She wondered if he could hear it too; hear the weakness that flooded through her.

"You haven't said anything about that night. I'm feeling a little used," he joked. With eyes still locked together, Clarke could see the shimmer of hurt in his.

"I haven't actually seen you much. I've been getting things ready for Lexa," she tried to explain.

"Seems like you're free now, so let me start. I like you, Clarke."

Clarke finally broke eye-contact with him at his words. She ducked her head down silently and stared at the fringe of strings on her dark pants.

"I think you are supposed to say something now," he said coolly.

"Like what?"

"I like you too, or wow, what a kiss." The comment was supposed to be smug and teasing like they usually were when they poured from his mouth, but the statement fell flat under the seriousness of the topic.

She didn't answer his question but instead asked him the one that had clouded her mind since her talk with Octavia.

"Then what?"

"Then we decide what we want," he answered shortly.

"What we want to do," she clarified slowly. She frowned again. "What would we do?"

"I don't know, Clarke. I'm not exactly used to doing this." She flinched at the reminder from his previous relationships. "I just mean, that we have been too busy to think about what happens after we survive. Dating isn't exactly, uh, practical."

She slowly considered his statement in her head.

"So now you are thinking about what's next?"

"Yeah," he said with a shrug.

"The 100 are still in Mount Weather."

"Not for long. We've talked about the future before, but mostly it has been about where to go. I've been thinking about what happens after that too."

Clarke studied the determined set of his face. "I'm just having a hard time believing that you want a relationship in a world like this. It's weird. I just don't see you as the type to want, I don't know, I guess a girlfriend." She cringed at the juvenile title.

"I'm not a 15-year-old boy. I know what I want in life. We could live a year or two years or ten years. Maybe we will even live eighty years. But we don't know that. I could die tomorrow from an attack or the flu. What I do know is that I'm attracted to you, Clarke."

Clarke's heart beat faster in her chest. The blush on her cheek felt blistering under his smoldering gaze.

"In a perfect world, I wouldn't date you. I would be a soldier on the Ark, and you would still be the Princess of the Council. But this is Earth. This is the place where our strengths and weaknesses are put on the table and left for everyone to see. You are stubborn and too hard to deal with sometimes, but you're smart and strong," he said stoically. "So this is me putting everything on the table. If you don't want this, then fine, but at least you know. I want someone, and I want that someone to be you."

"And if that changes?"

"Some things don't change, and some do."

"That's not an answer."

"You're asking me if this is a sure thing, but I don't know if it will be. I'm just being honest."

Clarke stared at him in surprise and mistrust. How could she trust Bellamy enough to want something like that? Part of her wanted to flee from him. The pain and rejection from Finn's dishonesty still seemed to burn in her veins, but then she remembered Octavia's words. Bellamy and Finn aren't the same.

She looked away from Bellamy and began analyzing the wrinkles in her leather boots. "God, this is ridiculous," she blurted as she felt her own frustration take over.

"Wow, tell me what you really think." Clarke looked up from her feet and glanced at his wounded face.

"No," she said quickly, "it's not you that's ridiculous. It's this conversation and me. This just seems strange and a little confusing."

"Simplify it, Clarke." He slid down next to her and reached for her hand. "How's this feel?"

His thumb stroked the back of her hand. Little tingles of electricity sparked were skin touched skin.

"Good," she breathed.

"And what about this?" He leaned forward and pulled her chin up. Her eyes fluttered shut as his finger delicately brushed over her left cheek down to her jawbone.

"Nice."

"And this?" He leaned over and pressed his soft lips to hers. Her breath caught in her throat as his mouth moved over hers. Fire burned in her cheeks. He pulled back and looked at her imploringly.

It took a moment for her to recover, but when she did, she said, "Eh, it could be better."

Bellamy's eyes widened at her answer before narrowing in response. "Funny, Princess."

"I thought so," she said smugly. A reluctant chuckle fell from his lips. A wide smile grew on her face as she stared at him. She couldn't help but think how striking he looked with his quirky half-smile and his shaggy hair falling over his caramel eyes.

It made her wish that she had a charcoal pencil, a piece of paper, and the ability to stop time. She clenched her hands into two fists near her side to keep from reaching out and touching his tanned, dotted cheeks.

"Please, think about us," he said softly.

"I still don't get why you're pushing this so much."

"Maybe with time, you will see."

"Maybe," she said reluctantly.

Bellamy sighed softly and stood up.

"Are you heading back soon?"

"Maybe in a little while. I just want to enjoy this place a little longer. It truly is a beautiful day," she said quietly.

Bellamy looked at her before casting his eyes over the broad blue skyline. He looked at her one more time before saying, "It's the perfect day."

Clarke looked at him, searching for the usually present smirk. She was astounded to see the tranquil, serious look on his face.

"I'll see you back in camp, okay?"

"Okay," she said, smiling at him as he walked away. She turned her small nose towards the sky and watched as the dark shape of a bird circled high above her head. She closed her eyes and relaxed, knowing that, even though all hell would be breaking loose very soon, that at least she could have this moment of peace.

* * *

**A/N: I want to thank everyone for their continued interest in the story. It truly does feel amazing to know that there are people who enjoy this story, so thanks again. If you liked this or want to leave a comment, please feel free to do so.**


	14. Chapter 14-Friction

**A/N: Enjoy Everyone! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100. The story is rated M for adult themes and will feature spoilers.**

Fix Me by 10 Years

I'm fine in the fire  
I feed on the friction

I'm right where I should be  
Don't try and fix me

Resolutions- Chapter 14- Friction

The flames of the fire licked up towards the darkened sky. Little pieces of ember floated over her head; the softly blowing wind swept them up, sending them spiraling through the crisp air.

Clarke closed her eyes and listened to the sounds around her. The crackling pops of the campfire were muted by the men and women talking around her. Nearby a group of kids giggled together. Their high pitched peals of laughter brought a smile to her face as she listened to their innocent happiness. She opened her eyes and stared at the three girls sitting across from her.

The smile slid from her face as she noticed their busy hands moving methodically. Small stones struck dull metal as they worked to sharpen the small blades in their hand.

She watched them for a moment before turning away in disgust. These girls were preparing for war. Only thirteen or fourteen, yet they were ready to protect or kill for the cause.

Clarke stood up and dusted the back of her pants. She turned to leave but stumbled into someone's chest.

"Wow, easy there."

Clarke mumbled an apology and looked up.

"Oh, thanks, Finn." She moved past him and began to walk towards her tent.

"Wait, Clarke. Can I walk you back?" Clarke hesitated for a moment at the simple question. This was the first time that she had seen Finn since their conversation. She didn't want to agree to let him walk her back with everything that had happened, but couldn't find a good enough reason to say no.

"I guess," she half-heartedly agreed. Finn fell in step as Clarke led them away from the bonfire. For a few minutes, Finn said nothing. Clarke didn't utter any attempts to break his silence but waited for him to speak first. She could tell by the look on his face that he had something important to say.

"It's interesting," he finally said.

"What is?"

"How well the Grounders are fitting in here. Things have definitely changed from when we landed." Finn nodded his head towards a group of men. Clarke looked up at the Grounders talking animatedly with some of the soldiers.

"It's easy to warm up to a group that will help us with the war against Mount Weather," Clarke said simply.

"Or it's easier just to ignore it." Clarke looked at Finn uneasily.

"What are you getting at?" She asked.

"Nothing," he answered breezily. His eyes shifted over Clarke. "We haven't really talked since you got back."

"It's definitely been busy."

"Isn't it always with you?" Clarke instantly bristled at the insinuation. She stopped suddenly and faced him. "You seem to have something that you want to say, Finn. Don't play around."

Finn faced her with a small grin on his face.

"I'm just checking in. We haven't talked since the last time. I thought we were going to remain friends, so this is me making an effort."

Clarke wanted to accept his words, but the prickling on her neck, and the nerves growing in her stomach led her to believe that Finn wasn't being completely truthful.

On Earth, she had quickly learned that her instincts meant the difference between life and death. It had stopped her from using herbs that had adverse effects on the 100 or eat food that ended up being poisonous. It was also why she couldn't just ignore Finn's claim that he was "checking in" with her.

"There's something you aren't saying," she said bluntly, crossing her arms across her chest and frowning at him. The skin around Finn's eyes tightened sharply as he took in her rigid, unmovable stance.

"I might have also wanted to know if you were planning on going to Mount Weather when the Grounders lead the attack."

"Why?"

"Because I want to go too."

"Finn, you are not going." He looked at her in surprise.

"Why?" Indignation drenched his question.

"You and Murphy would both be dead if you get anywhere near that battleground." She let her statement drift through the air. Finn flinched back as if he had been hit in the face.

"We thought we were saving you, Clarke. We thought we were saving the 100."

The guilt inside her stomach twisted and turned, eating at her insides. Her guilt made her lash out at Finn.

"It doesn't matter why you did it! It happened." She paused and took a deep breath. "It happened and there is no way to change it. We have to just deal with the consequences." Finn shot her an angry look.

"You don't have to tell me about consequences. If you even bothered to ask, you would know that I am facing plenty of those," he huffed angrily.

Clarke felt the sharp sting from his words as she looked at the boy she thought she once loved. She was horrified to realize that she never considered his guilt and pain from the situation.

Instead, she had done the reasonable thing. She had pushed him away and wiped her hands clean of the situation, abandoning him in the process.

Sadness and anger rushed through her as she realized what she had done. How was it any different from what her mom did to her dad?

You didn't let him die, she reminded herself.

There was part of her that wanted to change her attitude, ask him what was wrong, and try to be his friend. But the logically part of her knew that the time had passed. She couldn't play the role of sympathetic friend. Not while the others were dying in Mount Weather.

"You're still alive," she said coldly. "And if you stay away from the battle, then you will keep breathing. Maybe with time you will face down those consequences."

The muscle in his left cheek twitched as he looked at her. She could see the hurt shining in his dark eyes.

"What happened to you, Clarke? The girl I knew wouldn't act like this or do these things."

Clarke had to stop herself from replying out of anger. She wanted to tell him that she saw the light or some other clichéd line about growing up, but she couldn't. This wasn't about growing up or gaining some mystical knowledge that came with time.

It was about surviving, and not wanting to die; about pain and fear, and a hundred other feelings that caused the hairs to rise on her neck and the guilt to writhe around in her stomach.

In the end, she had changed for the 100.

"Don't go to the battle. I saved you once. I can't do that again." She pushed her body to turn away from him and farther away from the celebration at the campfire.

"Clarke!" He called, but she ignored him and continued to march away. Her mind didn't consciously decide where she was going. She didn't have a set plan, but as she continued to step carefully around the small tents and pieces of junk metal, it became clear that her body knew which path she was following.

She was heading to the one person that she knew would understand her stance on this war.

She stopped suddenly and looked up at the charcoal-colored tent in front of her. At night, it seemed different; bigger and more inviting, but that was probably just how she wanted to believe it was.

She took a deep breath and pushed open the flap of the tent. She sighed in relief as she took in the empty space. A small bed with rumpled sheets sat in the back corner, and a mud-covered bag sat beside it. Clarke glanced behind her and contemplated if she should leave.

She knew that the owner of the tent wouldn't be here. Bellamy was probably still by the campfire or standing guard at the gate, but she wanted to wait for him until he came back. Clarke moved forward hesitantly. She glanced at the unkempt bed in the corner before settling on a dusty spot on the floor. She gracelessly stretched her legs out and leaned against the railing of the bed.

A yawn escaped her. She shook her head in contempt. She was emotionally drained, and nothing seemed to help it. All she could think about was Bellamy and the 100.

Don't forget Finn, the little voice in her head nattered. Clarke sighed and leaned more heavily on the bed. She didn't want to think anymore. She just wanted to close her eyes and have everything go back to the first day that they landed on the Earth; it was a complicated time filled with uncertainty, but at least they had hope for the future.

Clarke closed her eyes and let her mind wander. Only two minutes later, Clarke's soft breaths had evened out as sleep had overtaken her.

* * *

"Clarke. Clarke!"

Clarke grumbled crabbily as the loud voice penetrated her sleep. She slowly pried her eyes open, and blinked them in an attempt to clear away the dusty residue that clouded them. As she eyed the dark pair of boots and the legs attached to the shoes, she realized that her back and rear-end really ached from sitting on the ground.

She huffed and looked up at the boy in front of her.

"I fell asleep, didn't I?" Her lip pouted out as she arched her back away from the bedpost that was digging into her back.

Bellamy smirked at her obvious crankiness. He silently nodded his head at her and waited for her to sit up. Instead, she stretched her head back and inclined back against the bed, letting a small yawn escape her small mouth.

When Bellamy gathered that Clarke wasn't going to talk, he asked. "You didn't stay for the party?"

"Not my scene," she murmured. "Did you end up going?"

"I stopped for a moment. It's not really a party without Monty and his moonshine."

"That's true," she whispered. He looked at her with regret as a shadow of sadness crossed her face.

He sighed and leaned over her, offering his raised hand to her. Clarke hesitated before reaching for his hand. Bellamy gently pulled her body up but didn't let go once she was on her feet.

"We will see him soon." He soothed. "We will get them all back."

"I wish you could promise me that, and it would be true, but it might not." Clarke pulled her hand back. She instantly began to miss the warmth of his rough palm as their hands dropped away from each other.

Clarke turned and paced away as reexamined the small space in the tent. Her eyes drifted over the bed and the bag again before she took note of a small bar stool and bowl that sat in another corner of the tent.

She was purely and simply trying to ignore the tension in the room. She could feel it becoming heavier and heavier as the silence stretched out. She didn't want to feel this anxious around him. She just wanted a sense of normalcy. She turned sharply and faced him.

"Bel-"

"Clarke-"

They both stopped and looked at each. Clarke could see the spark of light in his eyes, and the slight twitch of his lip as it began to pull into a smile. She couldn't help return the smile.

"Always interrupting, Princess."

Silence circled around the two as they stared at each other. Clarke could feel the tug in her belly that seemed to draw her towards the boy standing in front of her.

Her eyes swept up and down his face, taking in his dark hair that curled over his eyes and drooped over his dark eyebrows. She analyzed the sharp cut of his jaw line that was covered in several days' worth of scruff.

Unable to stop herself from continuing the path down, her eyes drank in the dark fabric that clung to his broad shoulders and hardened muscles. She stilled just as she was wandering down into dangerous territory. Instead, her blue eyes darted back to his dark eyes that seemed to be lit with a brooding curiosity.

She watched as he stepped forward, reaching for her slim wrist.

"Why are you here, Clarke?"

Clarke shivered as an electric heat swept through his fingertips and zipped through her body. She nearly closed her eyes as the effects of his gentle touch raced through her. Her eyes darted down to his mouth and back to his imploring brown eyes.

She opened her mouth to say something, but an urgency overtook her.

Why was she here? She had no idea, but something about him drew her in. She couldn't stop it, and it seemed like she couldn't resist it.

She knew why she should resist him. In the past, he was dangerous and a threat to the world she wanted to build, but now he was the only thing keeping her sane.

She was tired; so tired, and fighting and denying him felt like she was pulling at a rope tethered from her to her saving grace. Each pull of the rope rubbed and rubbed at her soul, but she wanted to keep fighting it based on principal.

Staring at that man in front of her, she realized that she couldn't fight the pull any longer. Instead of pulling away from him, she accepted that she couldn't do it anymore. With that small acceptance, the weight lifted off her chest.

She eyed him for one more long, quiet moment before launching forward through the small space that separated them.

Her hands immediately wrapped around the back of his neck, jerking him towards her. She felt his body freeze momentarily as their lips collided before he moved into action.

The hand that was locked around her wrist slipped down and wrapped around her hip while the other one ensnared around her golden hair, twisting the soft curls and pulling her closer.

Lips clashed against lips as he pressed against her, making her realize that she could easily become lost in the sensual pull of his mouth and the way he kissed her like he couldn't get enough. Each pressing movement became more and more addicting as she melted into the domineering molding of his lips.

The heat inside of her rose as she felt his large hands dig into her hips, roughly kneading the tender flesh that resided there.

She groaned and quickly opened her mouth to him, trembling as she felt his warm tongue sweep along her plump lower lip before sliding inside, twisting with her tongue in a carnal dance.

Clarke didn't know that they were moving until she felt the back of her knees hit the metal posts of the frame. She toppled down on the cot with Bellamy on top of her.

A feverish feeling fell over her as his body rested on top of hers. Her legs opened up and settled on either side of his hips, allowing him to rest fully against her.

They both pulled away from the kiss. Clarke opened her eyes and caught his dark eyes staring at her. A look of shock and disbelief tried to hide behind the dark desire, but she could see it.

He pushed up and shifted over her, trying to right himself, but it was futile; with each shifting movement she could feel the roughness of his pants and the prominent bulge that resided in them. She moaned and moved against him, trying to ease the ache that had settled between her legs.

He groaned as she grounded against him, letting his head fall on her shoulder. She shivered as she felt his warm breath sweep over the sensitive skin of her neck.

Clarke didn't want him to move off of her. She wanted him to relieve the lustful burning that had settled inside her. She wanted more, and she wasn't afraid to show him exactly what she wanted.

Without another thought, she slipped her hand under his shirt, smirking slightly as she felt his muscles tighten underneath her feather-light touch. He pulled back from her and stared at her with lust-dazed eyes.

"Clarke?" He asked as he felt her nails scratch against the outline of each ab muscle. Clarke lifted her head towards him and kissed him again. He soon became lost in her frenzy.

Clarke continuously glided her hand teasingly over his stomach, feeling every groove and crevice but could feel herself wanting more; wanting more from him.

She smiled against his lips as she let one slim finger dip underneath the band of his pants, testing her limits.

He gasped and pulled back away from her wandering hand.

"Clarke, stop. What are you doing?" he asked abruptly. A deep frown marred his face as he grabbed her hand tightly in his.

Clarke's brow furrowed in confusion as she regarded the solemn look on his face.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"We aren't having sex, Clarke." A flash of hurt entered her eyes. He was rejecting her, and at that moment she didn't understand how she was supposed to take it.

"Oh," she said quietly. She pulled out of his reach and struggled to untangle herself from Bellamy. When she did, she instantly slid her legs off the bed and made a move to stand.

Bellamy reached for her hand.

"You're leaving?" he asked in confusion.

She turned towards him. Bellamy was caught in her gaze. Her blue eyes seemed nearly black in the darkness. A light blue blazed around her dilated pupils scorching him as she peered through the darkness.

"You don't want to have sex," she said as if it was an answer to his question.

He looked at her in confusion. "So you aren't going to stay unless we have sex?"

"There wouldn't be any point."

Bellamy ground his teeth as he answered. "You came here for a reason. I thought that it meant you were choosing me."

"I am, but right now I can't handle the extra parts." Bellamy's eyes darkened. A dangerous glint entered them as he watched her. She could see the tightening in his jaw.

"The extra parts?" He questioned.

"The part where we pretend that everything's normal. That your feelings and my feelings happened naturally in a world away from here."

"Ah," he said slowly. "So you're talking about the relationship part. Why is having a relationship with me so hard to fathom? You seemed to push away from that idea earlier when we talked. You and Finn were together, so what's the difference?"

"Finn and I were a lie. It's ridiculous to think that relationships work here."

"We just had this conversation this morning."

"It didn't change how I felt. You know what I think about us."

"But you clearly feel something for me," he said in his deep questioning voice. The exasperation in his voice seemed to become more pronounced with each answer.

"We share similar viewpoints."

"I didn't say one thing about viewpoints. I'm talking about you, and I'm talking about me."

"Do you realize how weird that is?"

"What?"

"You. And Me. And us. I mean your Bellamy Blake. The King."

"Clarke-"

"No, I need you to acknowledge the insaneness of this moment. I saw girls walking in and out of tents. Some came out together, so understand that the fact that you have asked me several times to be with you is crazy. Almost as crazy as this conversation. It's out of character for you to be like this with anyone."

"I told you already. Things are settling down. I want to be able to settle down too."

"Then when we get back the 100, choose one of those girls."

"I don't want those girls."

"You don't want me."

"The hell I do. I don't know how to get this through your head. You say we have common viewpoints. That's true. We want what's best for the people we are protecting, and sometimes that means damning the consequences. You get that. I used to think that you were a spoiled princess. You know that, but I've also seen how wrong I was. You know what's right and wrong. You're intelligent-"

"Bellamy, you have told me this," Clarke muttered.

"But yet you still don't know why I want you." He frowned and took a deep breath. "Look, Clarke, I'm not going to push into something you don't want, but let's look at another fact. You are here for a reason. I didn't ask for you to show up. You just did."

"I...I'm-," she stuttered.

"I can get sex from any of the girls from the 100. You know that. They would give me what you're offering with no ramifications. I want those extra parts that you seem so afraid of. Don't you understand that?"

"Bellamy, I'm not going to complicate-"

"Then leave, because I'm not going to fight with you when you clearly want something that I can't offer you." Clarke could hear the bitterness in his voice. "Finn's still pining away for you. I saw your drawing from the closet. If you're looking for a fix, I bet you would be great together."

Clarke looked at Bellamy in disbelief.

"Are you serious? Finn, me, we ended up being nothing. It was only comfort at that point."

"Oh good. Glad to know that wanting sex for comfort is your M.O. Wouldn't want to think that I am special or anything."

"Now you are going to be an ass to me?"

Bellamy gazed at Clarke blankly before looking away. She could see the downturn in his shoulders as if he had been thoroughly defeated by something.

"Leave, Clarke."

"Bellamy, come on!"

"Now."

Clarke could feel her chest constrict as she looked at Bellamy's profile. He refused to look at her, and it felt like there was nothing she could do to fix it. She opened her mouth to argue again but shut it. She pushed past him and threw open tent flap.

With one finally look at Bellamy's still body, she absconded the tent.

* * *

**A/N: As always, feel free to leave a review or any comments. Thanks again.**


	15. Chapter 15-Worth

**A/N: Enjoy Everyone! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100. The story is rated M for adult themes and will feature spoilers.**

You Are Enough by Sleeping At Last

When we grew up,  
Our shadows grew up too  
But they're just old ghosts  
That we grow attached to  
The tragic flaw is that they hide the truth

That you're enough  
I promise that you're enough  
I promise you're enough, I promise you

Resolutions- Chapter 15- Worth

Bellamy's chest rose and fell as he stared down at his clenched fists. How did it go so wrong? He expressed interest in her. He tried to show her that he actually cared. He even opened up to her, and yet every attempt at that was thrown in his face.

His heart pounded angrily in his ears. He looked up at the entrance of the tent and saw that it was still rippling from when she threw it open and dashed away from him.

He didn't want her to go.

He wanted to go to Clarke and pull her back to him; make her see reason.

Bellamy strode towards the entrance and threw it open, instantly taking off into a sprint. He refused to let her slip away from him because of her insane fears.

He could see her moving swiftly. Her hair whipped over her shoulders and twisted wildly around her back as she took off quickly through the camp.

"Clarke, hold up!" Bellamy yelled, not caring if anyone overheard him or woke up from their sleep. Clarke stopped and turned sharply around as Bellamy caught up.

"Wow, you actually listened," he breathed nervously.

He stopped talking when he got closer and noticed her reddened cheeks and glazed eyes. He felt idiotic as he realized how upset she was. He should have known better after how he treated her but all he could think about was how hurt he felt by her rejection.

"Clarke, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you to leave like that. I just felt like when we came back from the trip, we were on the same wavelength. I thought you liked me too. We kissed at the Grounder's camp, and then we got back here. You didn't talk to me, but that was because we were busy and kept missing each other. Part of me thought you were avoiding me, but you tried to find me, and then, you got jealous when you saw Mel."

"I wasn't jealous!" She exclaimed.

"You were jealous, Clarke. And that made me hopeful like you felt something too. I thought that it meant you liked me," he repeated dejectedly. "But I can see that you don't want me in that way, so we can just go back to how we used to act around each other."

Clarke chewed on her bottom lip. He watched her carefully as her shoulders slumped down.

"I do," she whispered in defeat. "Like you, I mean."

Bellamy looked at her with skepticism. "Really? You're acting like it is this horrifying thing. I'm not going to force this on you or pressure you into this if you don't want it."

He carefully chose his words. It felt like he was treading over a patch of land filled with hidden explosives. He didn't know if the wrong word would send her fleeing from the camp and didn't want to risk it.

"You've got to understand, Bel. Everyone that I have cared about has screwed me over. My mom, Jaha, Finn. I either have really bad karma or I have a sign that says, 'Please screw me.'"

Bellamy's eyebrows rose in response to her loosely thought out statement. Finally realizing her mistake, Clarke blushed a dark magenta color.

"You know what I mean," she insisted.

"Yeah, I do. Losing control like that sucks," he said knowingly. "I've felt it with Octavia and my mom. It feels like whatever you do, it won't be enough. I get it, Clarke."

"Yeah," she mumbled.

"Different lives, same problems." He smiled at her before grabbing her hand. "Before you say no and push me away again, just try it. Being in a relationship isn't hard. It just means that we talk, and you get to rely on me just a little more."

"That sounds like we are going back to being co-leaders again."

The pressure on his chest lifted a little more. She wasn't running; at least not yet. Maybe he had an actual chance.

"We are. And have I let you down significantly as your co-leader?" He said with a smug smile.

"Once you started accepting that I was right, I don't remember being _significantly_ let down." Bellamy chuckled deeply as his finger started stroking the soft skin of her hand.

"There would be more though." Clarke took the bait and began to lean in.

"More?" she questioned innocently. He ignored the coy smile on her face, closed the gap, and pressed a soft kiss on her lips. He pulled back before he became too lost in the feeling.

"More," he answered quietly. She rocked back on her heels and watched him. He could feel her eyes analyzing each minute movement.

"Before we think about _more_, can you just tell me what changed, Bel?" She reluctantly asked. Her eyes were wide and dark underneath the night sky. They drew him in and left him enraptured by their imploring powers.

Bellamy tried to think about what had altered his thoughts about her, and how he could answer that question so that she would finally stop fighting off her feelings.

He remembered back to the time before they had left the Grounder's camp and how he had acknowledged his attraction but believed that nothing could happen. He had told himself that over and over again. But in the end, it was a lie.

He couldn't resist her back then, just like he couldn't resist her now.

He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, trying to block out her beseeching gaze. He couldn't explain it to her. If he even tried, it wouldn't work. She would ask too many questions. She always asked too many questions.

He shrugged his shoulders uselessly.

"Why won't you tell me what changed?" Clarke cried angrily.

Bellamy's eyes popped open at her, and he looked down at her small frame. He could see her hands begin to quiver with restrained frustration.

"Because there wasn't a moment, Clarke. It wasn't like I saw the sun catch your hair, and you became my world or some shit like that. It's just been gradual."

He swallowed hard as he thought about it.

"It wasn't you that's changed or the situation. It's me. I've started including you in things that I shouldn't. I keep thinking of you; trying to decide if you would like something or not. And for some reason, I keep thinking about a future. Our future. Our future where we aren't being attacked or murdered in our sleep. And when I think about a safe future, I realize that right now we are buried in so much shit that I can barely stand it. I'm worried about you. All the time. It's fucking annoying, but I just keep thinking about a Grounder getting you or the Mountain Men. They all want you dead. And that could easily happen."

He huffed a breath and stumbled closer to her. His eyes locked onto the faded bruises on her lightly tanned neck. His hand twitched with the compulsion to reach out and trace the marks on her skin.

"You almost died in front of me. Quint almost got you. In my head, I wasn't thinking, 'Oh shit, what am I going to do without my partner?' I was thinking, 'I can't do this without her.' Without you."

He took another step closer until he could feel the heat radiating from her skin. "It's you, Clarke. I want you, and as odd as it is for you and me, I need you." He raised his hand to her face and cupped the smooth roundness of her cheeks. His thumb slowly traced back and forth over her skin.

"Don't reject me again."

He could see her chest rise quickly as his words settled over her like a thick blanket. She exhaled shakily, but he could detect the smallest of nods as she settled closer to his hand, practically pushing against it.

He looked at her carefully. He could see the vulnerability shining through the darkness in her eyes that were so startling under the glow of the moon.

He wanted to shout and celebrate, pick her up and take her back to finish what she had started, but that one look of terror stopped him.

Instead, he leaned forward and gently placed his arms around her, pulling her close to him. She instantly snuggled into the warmth of his chest and circled her arms around his midriff.

Unable to help himself he laid his chin on the top of her head.

"You said something to me before that I couldn't answer right way because I was trying to resist this pull. I'm not going to do that anymore. I can tell you the truth, because I know that we're worth it," he said softly.

"I think of you as more too, Clarke," he whispered into her soft hair, breathing in the delicate scent of flowers, sunshine, and something sweet. It was the same the scent that had surrounded him that night after she had taken a bath at the Grounder's camp. He realized with a sigh that this was a scent that was purely hers.

He felt her hands tighten around his back, digging into the fabric of his shirt.

"I've got your back," she mumbled. The words were muffled by his shirt, but he heard every syllable spoken from her mouth. This was right, he thought as he pulled her closer.

They swayed lightly back and forth in each other's arms just enjoying the silence of the night.

* * *

**A/N: I know that this chapter was a lot shorter than usual, but I felt like this stopping place felt more natural than continuing it to the standard amount. Clarke and Bellamy need some happy times before shit hits the fan. I hope you enjoyed and please leave a comment to let me know how you felt about the warm fuzzies from this chapter. Thanks!**


	16. Chapter 16-Caged

**A/N: Enjoy Everyone! I also want to give a special thanks to everyone who is still reading this story. I've found it awesome and amazing that you guys are enjoying it and following it and reviewing it. So thanks again! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100. The story is rated M for adult themes and will feature spoilers.**

I Can't Make You Love Me by Bon Iver

Morning will come and I'll do what's right  
Just give me 'til then to give up this fight  
and I will give up this fight

Cause I can't make you love me if you don't  
I can't make your heart feel something it won't  
Here in the dark in these final hours  
I will lay down my heart

I feel the power but you don't  
No you don't  
I can't make you love me if you don't  
If you don't  
No, no, no, you won't

Resolutions- Chapter 16-Caged

"Bellamy, Clarke!"

Bellamy and Clarke jerked back as they heard the cry of their friend disrupt the quiet.

Bellamy muttered angrily over the interruption. He finally had her in his arms, and of course they were interrupted.

Both Bellamy and Clarke looked over in the direction of the call and saw Raven moving frantically towards them. Her leg jerked painfully as she tried to drag it over the ground.

Bellamy watched in disapproval as Clarke moved away from him in an attempt to stop Raven from hurting herself. He selfishly wanted her to stay in his arms for the rest of the evening but knew that the moment had passed.

He reluctantly followed Clarke over towards Raven. As he got closer, he could see the red flush of her cheeks and the slight dampness of perspiration on her forehead.

"Raven, Stop. We are coming to you," Clarke stated calmly.

Raven scowled at both of them, as she continued to hobble forward.

"Do you realize that I have been searching for you everywhere? I even sent Wick after you. I checked near the bonfire, Clarke's tent, your tent." She said in a rush while looking at the two of them. "What are you even doing over here?"

Clarke turned a dark maroon over the question and turned towards Bellamy with a look of loss. He couldn't help but smirk at the Princess. There was something comical in seeing her suddenly at a loss for words.

Raven peered at Clarke's suddenly inflamed cheeks with interest and Bellamy's smug smile. She frowned at them in confusion before flinching back in shock. She opened her mouth once before snapping it shut.

Bellamy knew that she had figured out what they had been doing, but he didn't want to answer any questions. Clarke and Bellamy had more to discuss, and he wasn't going to do that with Raven present.

"Was there a reason that you wanted us?"

"Uh, yeah," she said dumbly.

"Well, what is it?" He snapped after watching her silently gape at him. She blinked rapidly in response to Bellamy as if startled by his tone.

"Were you guys just hugging?"

"No."

"Yes."

Bellamy and Clarke looked at each other with surprised expressions.

Bellamy's wide-eyed look narrowed into a glare as he realized that she had denied something as simple as a hug. If she was going to lie about that, then she would definitely have a hard time letting people know that they were together.

Was this always going to be a problem between them?

"Raven, just say what you were going to say."

"Oh! I cracked the code to Mount Weather. I'm in," she exclaimed.

Bellamy watched as Clarke's face changed from surprise to relief. Her shoulders slumped as if she couldn't hold them up another moment.

"Have you found out anything?" She badgered anxiously.

"I just got in. Wick and I switched places so that I could find you. He's trying to get the signal more tuned into their system so we can learn more. We should head back to see if he found anything useful."

Bellamy and Clarke nodded in unison and followed Raven back towards the Ark's engineering room.

Clarke surveyed Raven's slow pace before giving Bellamy and Raven an impatient look. Bellamy could practically see the question in her eyes. She wanted to go listen to the message, not wait for Raven.

"Do you need any help?" Bellamy asked. Raven shot him a heated look in response.

"No," she said shortly. Clarke huffed querulously before biting her lip. She gave Bellamy another pleading look, but Bellamy just shrugged in response.

"Raven, Bel, I'm going to go ahead. Maybe I can help Wick." Without another word, Clarke bolted down the row of tents before turning out of sight.

Bellamy nearly rolled his eyes at her childish eagerness.

A few moments of tense silence fell over Bellamy and Raven as they continued to move gradually towards the Ark. Bellamy knew that Raven was a lot like him. She didn't talk about her feelings, and she didn't like to show weakness.

If he were in her position, he wouldn't accept anyone's help either.

"Sorry about ask-"

"Don't be," Raven interrupted gruffly. "My legs are still a sore subject."

"Did Abby say anything helpful about it?"

"Not really. It kinda is what it is. I'll have to learn how to manage it with time. I hate to admit it, but Wick's brace helps a lot. It would have taken a few hours to find you."

"That's good at least." Raven looked at him and smiled.

"How about we drop the depressing small talk about my leg, Bellamy. Tell me the truth. What did I walk in on? Are you and Clarke together?"

He looked at Raven and shrugged his shoulders noncommittally.

"We were talking, Reyes."

"You were hugging. It's not a big deal if you guys are together. I'm just curious."

"Not a big deal, huh?"

"Well, no," she said shrugging. "It's a huge deal, but only if it is true."

"Do you really think I'm in or could be in a relationship?" He gave her a look filled with condescension and male prowess, hoping that it would deter her interrogation.

"With the right person? Yeah, I do."

"I'm not answering your questions."

Raven turned towards Bellamy in annoyance.

"Why?"

"Keep moving, Reyes. I actually want to hear that signal sometime tonight."

"I'm going to find out sooner or later."

"But not from me. I'm not telling you my business."

"You already answered my question by not answering, so it looks like avoiding the question was pointless."

Bellamy glared at Raven in frustration.

"Whatever, Raven. My business is my business. If you want to have a conversation about relationships, why don't you tell me about what were you doing before you discovered the signal?"

"W…What," She stuttered at the sudden change of direction.

"Nice hickey," he said pointing to the dark bruise on her neck. "Not that I'm one to judge, but I'm curious."

Raven quickly recovered under his scrutiny.

"Fine, never mind. I will stop asking questions. Just don't hurt Clarke, okay?"

Bellamy felt annoyed by her assumption. He wasn't a bad guy. He'd changed from when they had landed on Earth and wasn't the self-centered bastard that everyone assumed he was.

"I'm not going to," he muttered petulantly.

Raven and Bellamy stayed quiet as they entered the Ark. Bellamy hadn't traveled through this part of the building before. He let Raven lead them through the hallway until they stepped in front of a solid, metal door.

Instead of automatically opening, Raven began shoving the doors apart to allow them to pass. Bellamy quickly reached over her small body and helped pry the entrance open.

"We've been rerouting power the last couple of days to make the fence harder to break through," Raven said breathlessly. "Come on in."

Bellamy stepped through the doors and found Clarke sitting wide-eyed and pale on a bench.

Wick was sitting on a stool near her; his arm was slowly rubbing circles on her shoulder. Bellamy had to swallow back the venomous jealousy that stirred in his gut at the sight. Instead, his dark eyes settled back on Clarke's face.

"What's wrong?" He asked. The concern in his voice caught her attention.

She blinked at him shell-shocked.

"Clarke," he said. "What happened?"

He could see that she was retreating into herself. The hollowed out expression made him instantly on edge.

"Jasper was on the radio."

"What?" Bellamy and Raven exclaimed in unison. Clarke looked up at Bellamy. The shock in her eyes was beginning to fade into excitement.

"Jasper's voice was on the radio! He's alive."

Bellamy looked at Wick for confirmation.

"One of the captured Ark members-"

"Jasper," Clarke interrupted shortly.

"Jasper," he clarified in a soothing manner, "managed to send a transmission through Mount Weather. It's playing on loop."

"Bring it up, Wick."

Without another word, Wick turned around and began typing into the computer. Raven limped over to Wick and began to fiddle with a few knobs.

Bellamy leaned forward in anticipation as the sound of static broadcasted around the room. Wick stood up and flipped two more switches and sat down.

"…We are alive." Bellamy nearly jumped as he heard Jasper's voice softly come through the speaker.

"That's-"

Clarke shushed him and gave a glare as Jasper's voice grew in volume.

"We are alive, but not for long. Every couple of days, soldiers enter the sleeping quarters. They take one of the 100 and leave under the guise of routine health inspections. First it was Harper, then Drew, and now Fox is missing. Once they are gone, they don't come back. We tried to leave, but they won't let us. We need help. If anyone is out there, we are alive and fighting back."

Bellamy's mouth felt like cotton as he tried to swallow.

"Wait," Clarke breathed.

Bellamy leaned closer to the radio as Jasper's voice came over the speakers again.

"…Seven more are missing…" The static grew louder, overlapping his voice. Bellamy waited restlessly for it to dissipate. Bellamy's hair rose up on his neck as the tense atmosphere seemed to press down on each person in the room.

"…They came in and stole two more during the night. One of their people, Maya, has been helping us. They brought her… their medical center two days. She hasn't come back since then. Two… they found…testing on our peo… Marrow transplants allow… can't go outside… Transplants are effective… Two dead…."

"Can you take out the fucking static?" Bellamy exclaimed at Wick in anger as he listened helplessly to the message.

"No. I need to find a way to strengthen the signal. Maybe amplify it. We just don't have the resources to put something together like that."

Bellamy huffed loudly and paced around the room.

"What did it mean?" He asked turning towards Clarke.

"They've been experimenting on the kids. I thought that maybe they would drain their blood like they did to the Grounders, but it isn't sufficient enough. Their bodies aren't processing the radiation, so they are looking for a permanent fix."

"And the bone marrow?"

"It could possible work. The proteins in the marrow could act as a trigger for their bodies and activate their immune system to better handle the influx of radiation from the surface."

"Jasper said that two people are dead."

"It could be two Mountain Men. Bone marrow transplants shouldn't kill the person that they are harvesting from," Clarke said solemnly.

Bellamy watched her carefully as she spoke and could see the worry in her eyes and knew that she was hiding something.

"Clarke, what are you thinking?" he murmured.

She paused and looked at him with wide eyes. He watched as she sucked and bit down on her lower lip, worrying the plump flesh between her white teeth. He wanted to reach forward and stop her but held back.

"We should tell your mom this," he spoke.

"No," she said firmly, shaking her head back and forth slowly, "we shouldn't. The council has shown us what their goal is. They don't care about the 100. But there are families here with children from the 100. We should announce this to the camp when the Grounder's get here. If we can play on their emotions, we can get our army." She turned her sharp eyes towards Raven and Wick.

"This message stays here. No one can find out about this until tomorrow."

"Princess," Bellamy began.

"You know I'm right, Bellamy."

"It's a bad idea, Clarke."

"It will work."

"History, it is said repeats itself, few but are reminded almost every day of something that has gone before." Bellamy quoted gravely.

"What?" Clarke exclaimed. Her brow furrowed in confusion. She gazed at him as if he was speaking in tongues.

"It's a historical saying. It means that you are about to repeat a past mistake because you aren't thinking."

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Bellamy."

"When we were at the Dropship, and Wells died, I told you not to say that Murphy murdered Wells. And I advised you not to rile up the crowd. But you did."

"So?"

"You are repeating history."

He watched warily as her confusion turned to anger, before shutting down with a blank look.

"What if it is the only way?"

"It's not. That way is dangerous. Anger inspires passion, but passion inspires insanity. If you give this information to the camp, then you are going to light a fire that burns this place to the ground."

"I agree with Bellamy, Clarke." Clarke jolted forward when she heard Raven speak. Both Bellamy and she had forgotten that there were others in the tent. Bellamy gave her a small, encouraging half-smile before focusing on Raven again.

"I'm all for kicking ass and taking names, but this could cause more damage than it is worth. Abby already said that she is going to push the council to make a decision. Give her a chance and then we will act," Raven stated quietly.

Clarke nodded slowly before standing.

"I guess there is nothing that I can do tonight then." Bellamy watched as she left the room as if in a daze. Bellamy looked at Raven's worried face and the frown that seemed to be deeply etched on Wick's face.

"You guys did a great job. Thank you."

Raven quickly waved him off. "You aren't the only one missing people because of Mount Weather. We are getting them back."

"Yeah, we are."

He left Raven and Wick in the room, trying to follow Clarke.

As Bellamy exited the section of the Ark, his eyes darted around, scanning the camp for movement. He didn't know where Clarke had wandered, but he figured that she probably headed back to her tent, exhausted by the day.

He considered going after her but shrugged it off, knowing that she needed time to process the shit storm that seemed to be surrounding them.

He headed through the camp and threw open the entrance to his tent.

As he entered his small bivouac, he immediately began tugging the thin material of his dirty shirt up over his head. He sighed with relief as the air hit his overheated skin. He threw his t-shirt haphazardly onto the ground not even pretending to care where it landed. He did the same with his pants, before dragging his worn body farther into the tent.

He went to the small stool near his clothes and pulled the damp cloth out of a bowl he always kept there in times when the dirt on his face formed a second skin. He scrubbed the cloth roughly against his face until he knew it was clean. He dipped the cloth into the water again and began washing his arms and legs.

The exhaustion that Bellamy had gradually been feeling throughout the day had finally caught up with him; he could feel it weighing on his fatigued muscles as he threw himself down on his hard mattress. He shut his eyes and allowed the heaviness of sleep to bear down on him.

* * *

Bellamy jolted awake. His neck prickled uncomfortably, and his stomach twisted. As he gazed around in the dark space of the tent, he couldn't figure out why he had been awakened from his dreamless sleep.

In the peripheral of his vision, he could see something gleam through the darkness. He jerked up in bed and peered through the darkness.

"Clarke?" He croaked sleepily as he noticed her standing anxiously in the corner. She shifted nervously as if she wanted to bolt at any moment.

"Yeah, I couldn't sleep," she softly mumbled in embarrassment. She came here to him on her own. He nearly smiled at the thought that she pursued him. She trusted him enough to do that.

"Come 'er." He scooted over, making room for her and reached out, wanting to give her some comfort.

"I don't have to stay the night."

"It's fine as long as you don't jump me," he joked quietly. She moved silently, creeping towards him.

"I make no promises," she said. A smirk played at the corner of her mouth. He smiled at the return of his feisty Princess.

"Well, I wouldn't blame you. I mean look at all these muscles." He flexed his arms.

"And with a matching ego? However will I resist?" She batted her eyes at him playfully.

"It would definitely be a trying feat."

"Dealing with you is a trying feat," she said as she slipped on top of his bed.

"Ouch, how you wound me. If you keep insulting me, I won't invite you back." She looked at him. He gulped nervously as he noticed the mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"Are you sure about that? I'm an excellent bed buddy," her voice rasped, low and seductive sounding.

Curious about how far she was willing to go, Bellamy asked, "What makes you think that?"

"I'm very considerate," she said, leaning closer to him. She slowly licked her plump bottom lip. Bellamy's eyes darted down and watched her soft, pink tongue trace the contours of her mouth. He groaned in response and closed the gap.

His mouth warmed as it pressed against her wet, freshly-licked mouth.

He pulled back and looked into her dark blue eyes. "Considerate?"

"Uh-huh," she said drunkenly. He a felt a bit of juvenile pride over seeing her react to their kiss.

"Care to explain?"

"Don't really want to talk right now, Bellamy. Let's leave it at I've never had a complaint."

Bellamy frowned at her answer. The drawing of Clarke and Finn flashed through his mind as his had gazed down into her multifaceted cerulean eyes. His eyes narrowed slightly as he felt the sting of envy.

He didn't want to feel jealous of her. He wasn't celibate or anything like that, but he didn't care about those girls. Clarke had loved Finn. And Finn still wanted Clarke.

He knew that Finn was still pining away for Clarke, waiting for the moment to swoop in for her. Murphy had made the conscious effort to find him after the bonfire to explain how Finn had followed Clarke like a puppy dog through the camp.

More importantly, Finn had a past with Clarke that made Bellamy's relationship with Clarke look like child's play. He hated it but knew that there was nothing that he could do to erase it.

"Have you ever had a complaint?"

The question slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

She blinked at him in shock over the question.

"W…what?" she stuttered in surprise.

He couldn't take back the question now. Might as well figure out the full extent of his competition with the Spacewalker.

"Any complaints with your companions?" Scorn dripped out of his mouth as he asked her about her partners.

"Singular. Not plural. It was just Finn," she said drily with a frown and a slight blush.

"Okay. Companion."

"Are you going to share your experiences with me after I tell you about my sordid affair?" She paused then shook her head. "Actually, never mind. I don't want to know about your conquests in graphic detail. I pretty much watched a majority of them walk out of your tent with a post-coital glow. I don't need the play-by-play."

"It wasn't that many." Clarke glared at Bellamy with an "I don't believe you" look that nearly made him cringe.

"My experience pertains to one solitude event, Bellamy. I can't complain because it was the first time, and it was nice."

Bellamy gritted his teeth as he remembered the way her head had been tossed back in pleasure from the drawing. It didn't seem just nice.

"That's it?"

"That's all I have. I'm not sure why we are even having this conversation. It doesn't really matter."

"Just wanted to see what damage I needed to fix from the Spacewalker's first walk." Clarke's mouth dropped down in astonishment.

He smirked at her before bringing his hand towards her face. The heat from her blush soaked into the palm of his hand. He cupped her chin and kissed her softly again. She pulled back and placed her hand on top of his.

"Are you about to drop the 'no sex rule'?"

Bellamy pretended to think about it.

"No." He felt her warm breath escape her in an irritated huff.

"No one likes a tease, Bellamy."

"I'm not going to tease you, Princess. At least, not in that way." He moved closer and trailed kisses from the corner of her mouth, down her chin, and began to leave sucking kisses along her jaw line. "There are other things that I want to show you."

She moaned slightly as his teeth grazed against her sensitive skin.

"Tell me, princess, what do you like?"

"Like?" Her voice sounded soft and breathy. He loved the sound of it as it filtered through the air.

"Yes. What makes you feel good?" He watched as a look of confusion came over her face.

"I don't know."

"Did you ever cum?"

She turned bright red with embarrassment and tried to retreat away from him. He firmly kept her trapped in kissing distance by sliding one of his hands around her side. His fingers found a slit of exposed skin in between the band of her pants and the bottom of her shirt.

So goddamn soft. It made him want to push her tank top higher and higher until he could just slip it off.

"I don't know," she exclaimed. "Maybe."

"Trust me, princess. You would know if you had an orgasm or not. I'm going to assume that would be a no." Bellamy felt ecstatic over the discovery. Maybe he wouldn't have to erase as much of her past experiences as he first thought.

"How about we play a game?" He looked at her mischievously and leaned closer. "You get to tell me what feels good and what doesn't. Don't move."

He brushed her hair away from her face and whispered in a deep rasp next to her ear. "Do you like this?"

He started off by slowly trailing his finger from her cheeks down to her collarbone.

She nodded quickly.

"No, no, no," he chastised, "you have to tell me with your words."

Clarke swallowed hard.

"Yes," she whispered breathlessly.

He used his finger to push down the sleeves of her dark blue tank top, exposing her shoulder.

"And what about this?" He said as he lightly stroked the newly exposed skin.

"Yes."

He stopped moving his hand on her shoulder and laid a chaste kiss on her cheek. He looked up at her eyes, waiting for her answer.

"And this?"

"That's okay, but it's not as good." He smiled at her answer and the frown that had appeared on her face.

"Let's see about this then."

He tangled his left hand in her hair, feeling the soft golden tendrils twist around his long fingers. He gave her hair a gentle tug, exposing the soft, tender skin of her neck. Immediately, he swooped down sucking, licking, and biting at her delicious skin.

He grinned in satisfaction as he heard the breathless moan escape her lips and felt her body shiver underneath him. She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

He continued exploring her neck until he found that one spot between her jaw and neck that he had discovered would make her shudder in ecstasy. He pulled back and looked at her face. Her eyes were tightly clenched. He admired the way her skin had turned a light pink and seemed to glow.

"How about that, Princess?" Clarke's eyes snapped open. He could see the pure, unrestrained lust growing in her eyes. She reached for him and tried to pull him close again. Bellamy lost balance and toppled on top of her, forcefully pushing her into the mattress.

"Oh, God…" she muttered. Bellamy choked in response as he felt his arousal brush against her inner thigh.

"A little over eager there," he joked in a strangled voice.

"Just showing you what I need," she gasped as he ground more firmly against the apex of her body.

Bellamy pushed away a stray curl and leaned down for another slow, impassioned kiss. His tongue slipped inside her mouth and stroked against her softly swirling tongue. She groaned into his mouth and pushed closer towards his body.

He only pulled away from her when he began to desperately need oxygen.

Moving back a centimeter from her face, he whispered, "Do you want me, Princess? Do you want me to make you feel good?"

Feeling intoxicated by the soft swells of her body resting underneath her, he rasped in a low, forceful tone, "Do you want to see how I can play your body until you cum around my fingers? Do you want me to ruin every other man that comes near you? I can do that for you. You just have to say yes to me."

Clarke stared at him as if he was a different person. Her chest seemed to rise and fall quickly as her hot, little breaths escaped her and spread across his face.

There was a moment's pause where he felt like he had finally scared her and said the wrong thing, sending her running for the hills. She stopped that train of thought by leaning forward and roughly grasping the back of his head, pulling him down into a heated kiss.

She shoved her tongue into his mouth exploring the soft warmth of his mouth. His tongue battled with hers, pressing against hers, fighting for dominance.

Bellamy groaned as his mouth returned to her neck. His tongue tasted the flesh that he frequently thought about. It was as sweet as he had imagined, and knew that he would forever be addicted to the taste.

A whimper fell from her mouth as she felt his teeth harshly nip at her neck with bruising strength. His tongue immediately soothed the sting causing heat to shoot down to her core.

Something was building inside him as he felt her body squirm against his. He felt a need to possess her, take her, and make her his. Finn shouldn't have seen her like this. He didn't deserve to know about the way that Clarke arched against him as if they weren't close enough. He didn't deserve to see her golden hair splayed across the bed like a damn halo of golden light. And he definitely didn't deserve to hear the breathless noises of need that poured from her sexy mouth.

The jealousy in him took over as he roughly began to run his hands in a path up from the top of her stomach down to her thighs. The tips of fingers explored the smoothness of her curves. He traced over the soft swell of her hips and felt her smooth stomach underneath the palm of his hand.

He let his hand trace back and forth over the top of her ribs, just barely brushing against her breasts.

"Bellamy..." She whimpered in response.

He looked down at her questioningly.

"Please." She tilted her hips up trying to grind against him and pushed her chest closer towards his hand. He smirked as he realized how much she needed relief.

"What Princess? Tell me what you need." Clarke bit her lip.

She reached around to grasp his curls again and tried to pull him down on her so that he fully rested on top of her body. Bellamy pulled away from her grip and grasped her hands between his, pushing them above her head.

"Uh, uh, uh. None of that. Not until you say exactly what you want," he teased.

Her eyes narrowed into slits as she tried to wiggle out of his hold. His hands tightened around her wrists. He gazed at her with dark, hooded eyes. He loved seeing her like this. Her lust and need for him was tangible.

He could barely resist giving into her and his arousal as he gazed down at his trapped Princess.

"Please, Bellamy. Please take off my clothes and touch me." Bellamy nearly exploded in his pants as he heard her sweet voice beg for his touch.

His lips slammed against her as he let go of her wrists. His left hand snuck in between their body and crept under her shirt. She breathlessly cried into his mouth as his fingers grazed over her soft skin and skimmed around her ribs.

If Clarke hadn't been so turned on, giggles would have escaped her mouth from the ticklish touch. Instead, his fingers just caused the fire in her to rage on.

His fingers rose up and brushed along the cotton strap of her shirt. "Do you want me to take this off, Princess? Make your decision now, because once we start, it will take a Grounder army to stop me."

Clarke looked into his eyes. The lust he held for her shone through his eyes like a beacon, but it was dimmed by a tenderness that surprised her. One word could stop him. He would get off of her with no repercussions. He would just hold her for the rest of the night like they originally planned.

Clarke's hand snaked between their bodies and pushed Bellamy back in response.

Bellamy couldn't help but feel disappointment course through him as he instantly began to move away from her. He sat on the cot and took a deep breath as he watched her stand up from the bed.

He subtly adjusted himself as he tried to calm down the raging hard-on in his boxers, but short of crossing his legs, he knew there was no hiding himself in his aroused state. Instead, he tried to lean forward with his elbows on his knees.

He groaned painfully as he felt his cloaked erection rub against his stomach. He fucking wanted relief.

He watched as Clarke silently walked in front of where he sat. She placed her hand on her shoulder and pushed a little until he curiously looked her in the eye. He felt confused as he took in the way her hooded eyes and the small twist of her pouty smirk beckoned him seductively.

She reached over and grasped the fabric of her shirt, tugging at it until it was over her head and on a pile on the floor. She reached back and twisted the clasp on her black bra. He was mesmerized as the fabric slouched down, and the thin black straps slipped down her smooth, tanned arms.

Jesus Fucking Christ.

He was nearly dizzy from her small movement as all of the blood in his head rushed down south to fill his other head. He watched every little movement as she shuffled forward and moved her hands down to his shoulders.

His eyes darted from her face down to the barely exposed mounds of her breasts. They sat perkily in front of him, taunting and jeering at him. His mouth watered as he thought of throwing off the bra, and burrowing his head in between them.

"Bellamy," she whispered. She grabbed his hands that were still lying listlessly on his knees. Threading her fingers through his, she tugged until he acquiesced and stood in front of her.

"Touch me," she murmured. Bellamy's eyes shot from her face down to where her skin glowed underneath the dull night light.

He slid his fingers out of her hand and set them down on the side of her hips. He watched as she gently sucked on her lower lip in response.

He slid his fingers along her stomach and watched as the muscles of her stomach twitched in response and goosebumps rose on her skin.

"More," she hummed.

"I should have known that you would be this bossy in bed," he rasped roughly.

A laugh broke from Clarke's mouth, which quickly turned into a moan as Bellamy's hands slipped over her ribs and under the material of her bra.

He gently cupped her firm breasts between his hands. His thumb scrapped over the soft peaks, causing them to harden under his gentle touch and releasing a guttural groan from Clarke.

Hearing that noise broke the floodgates of Bellamy's restraint. He pulled his hands out from underneath the cotton bra. His fingers hooked around the thin straps and sharply pulled the last scrap of cloth off her arm, exposing her large breasts to the cool air.

Fuck.

He watched in awe as he took in the pale skin and rose-colored nipples that had pebbled under Bellamy's watchful eye.

"God, you're so fucking gorgeous," he said. "Lay down, Princess."

He watched as she delicately sat on the small mattress and scooted over the few inches so that she rested in the center of the bed.

Like a predator hunting his prey, Bellamy bent down and leaned towards the small girl in his bed. His Princess.

"You're still too covered, baby." He watched the shy look cross over Clarke's face. Bellamy brought his hands over her hips and hooked his fingers into the slightly stretchy band of her pants. He slowly began pulling the material down.

His mouth became dry as he gazed at the exposed skin. When he got to the bottom of her long, lean legs, he quickly yanked her boots and worn socks off of her feet and pulled the pants the rest of the way off.

He leaned back on his knees and just stared at her as she sat on the bed with only a small pair of black underwear.

She blushed again underneath his intense gaze. She was nearly squirming as he stared, but he didn't do anything to relieve her intense arousal.

"Fucking gorgeous," he finally breathed. He moved forward until he was nearly hovering over her. He gently lowered himself onto her body. He almost groaned as he felt her pebbled breasts brush against his bare chest.

He pressed his lips against her. His left hand went straight for her hair, tangling in her soft locks. His other hand brushed over her hips, teasing the skin.

When he felt like they were both going to combust from the lack of oxygen, he broke the kiss and began to leave open-mouthed kisses along her neck, dipping down past her clavicle, and across her chest.

He could hear her whispering, reverent pleas for more.

It just fueled the aching inside his pants. He wished that he could find some relief, but this was about her. She wanted him, and he wanted her, but he wanted to prove through his actions that she would always come first in his mind.

She arched against him as his lips dipped between her breasts. He began trailing kisses towards her left breast.

A loud gasp escaped Clarke's mouth as his cheek brushed against her tight, pink nipple. He couldn't stand another second; he wanted to taste her skin.

He let his tongue slide out over the small point and sucked it into his mouth, and watched in awe as Clarke's mouth fell open in small "O" shape. A low keening noise fell from her lips and went straight towards his dick.

Bellamy's other hand began pinching and pulling on her other nipple, trying to see if he could incite a similar reaction.

Her hands went right to his hair, almost holding him to her chest as if he would stop and leave her high and dry.

Bellamy's switched breasts, giving the other one the same amount of detail and pulling the same wanton cries from Clarke.

Smiling, Bellamy began raining kisses lower on her skin. He kissed and sucked on the skin, tasting her sweetness.

When he reached the waistband of her panties, he looked up at her face. He was afraid that he would see fear or worry, but her eyes only communicated her anticipation and her need for him.

He pressed a kiss on the skin right above her panties before he began to lower them down her legs and off of her body.

He was hit with the sweet scent of her arousal. His dry mouth was suddenly flooded in anticipation. He licked his lips and looked down at her exposed sex in amazement. Her soft, blonde, glistening curls beckoned him.

He pressed a soft kiss on her hip bone. He could see her watching his every movement. Her teeth were gently chewing on her lip as she waited.

Gently, Bellamy used his fingertips to trace the skin right above her curls. A quiet breath escaped her lips.

Bellamy's hand slowly ran over the curls. He could feel her damp arousal already coating the curls.

She was so wet. So ready, his mind automatically supplied.

"Bellamy, fucking stop teasing," she demanded impatiently. Her voice was rough and husky with desire.

Following her directions, Bellamy immediately traced her lower lips, gathering the slickness of her excitement.

"Bellaaamy," she cried as he slowly pushed his finger inside her. Bellamy was mesmerized by the look of complete and utter pleasure on her face.

"Does that feel good, baby?" He added another finger, watching as she slowly began to move against his fingers, thrusting her hips against him.

His other hand pulled her face towards his. He gently pressed his lips towards her, swallowing the small, throaty noises that came from her throat. He could feel her inner walls pulsing down on his fingers and knew she was getting closer.

Using his thumb, he firmly rubbed her swollen bud. A loud groan came from her. She arched up in pleasure.

Bellamy pulled back and watched as she moved on his bed. Each noise and squirm sent bolts of heat straight to his dick.

"Bellamy, close." she whimpered.

"I know, Princess." Bellamy bent down and kissed the hollow of her throat and added a third finger, quickly speeding up their thrusting. He gently sucked on the spot near her throat that made her squirm. Lifting his eyes to her face, he bit down on that sweet spot and pinched her clit between his thumb and forefinger.

He felt her inner walls clamp down on his fingers and held her as her body shook from her orgasm. He watched her face carefully as she fell apart.

Clarke's eyes were clenched shut, and her small pouty lips were caught in between her lips as she tried to contain the loud, mewling noises. Her hands weakly clung to his muscled arms as her body slowly calmed down.

Bellamy wiped the slick moisture on his boxers before scooping Clarke up in his embrace. He pulled her closer and kissed her forehead, ignoring the throbbing pain in his pants.

She blinked up wearily at him and gave him a slow, lazy smile before stretching her legs out.

"Sleep, Princess. Tomorrow we can figure everything else out." Bellamy grasped the thin bed sheet and covered their bodies with it before leaning all the way back.

Clarke mumbled nonsensically before falling asleep.

Bellamy smiled as he felt Clarke's head resting on the center of his chest and her soft curves pressed against his body. His arm lightly stroked her arm until he could tell that she had fallen into an even deeper sleep.

As he looked down at the small girl in his arms, a sudden feeling overwhelmed him. He frowned at Clarke and watched her as she slept.

Closing his eyes tightly, Bellamy let his head fall back onto the small pillow underneath his head and stared at the ceiling of the tent, letting the feeling wash over him.

He knew that at that moment, he had fallen in love with Clarke.

But instead of feeling elated by his discovery, all he could feel was dread because he knew that his feelings would have to remain a secret until she said something to him. Bellamy sighed and leaned closer towards her, gently brushing the threads of tangled golden hair away from her eyes. There would be another time when he could let her know about his feelings, but for now he would have to watch and wait.

* * *

**A/N: Whew! This chapter. I hope it delivered like it was supposed to. Bellamy's in love. Clarke's oblivious in her post-coital dream world. Raven's getting some action, but from who? And we have finally heard from the 100. Woot!**

**Now, this is my first lemony scene ever so I'm going to hide for a few days until I can make the blush go away. I am demanding feedback for this chapter because I have no idea on if the hot-and-heavy moment was steamy or just meh. Review, review, review! Or I'll hold my next chapter hostage ;)**


	17. Chapter 17-Trapped

**A/N: Enjoy Everyone!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100. The story is rated M for adult themes and will feature spoilers.**

All Fall Down by OneRepublic

If ever your world starts crashing down  
Whenever your world starts crashing down  
Whenever your world starts crashing down  
That's when you find me

Lost 'til you fall  
Swim 'til you drown  
Know that we all fall down  
Love 'til you hate  
Strong 'til you break

Resolutions- Chapter 17- Trapped

Clarke's eyes fluttered open before shutting. She moaned and tried to stretch, but was blocked by the solid body that was pressing against her left side.

_Bellamy._

Clarke's eyes opened wide and stared at the boy next to her. She bit her lip as she remembered last night's adventures.

She used her thin, long fingers to delicately stroke her lips. They still felt swollen from the firm pressing of his lips against hers.

The smile that lit up her face could have blinded someone. Pure elation and joy bubbled inside her. If she knew how good being with Bellamy felt, she would have given in much sooner.

She turned back on her side and just watched Bellamy as he slept. There was something about the way he looked while he slept that entranced her.

His face, unburdened by the daily troubles, seemed softer. The crease between his eyes disappeared, and his mouth was slack and relaxed. Clarke's fingers reached to stroke his chin where a small scar etched its way across his jawline.

The pad of her thumb brushed against the rough prickle of stubble; she enjoyed the feeling of his skin and the warmth that spread from the tips of her fingers.

She watched the muscles in his jaw twitch underneath her fingers, and she smiled devilishly. She leaned over and pressed a soft kiss on the center of his chest right above his heart. Soft, light brown chest hair caressed her face as she pulled away from his hardened pectorals.

Bellamy muttered nonsensically. She looked up and frowned as he tried to pull away from her. With renewed vigor, Clarke nuzzled her face into his shoulder, pressing a trail of kisses against his warm skin.

She smiled as she felt him begin to stir underneath her. First, he twisted one way, then the other, until finally she felt his large hands clutch at her bare skin.

Clarke pulled back feeling smug and victorious. She stared into his dark hooded eyes with a look of complete happiness.

"I'm glad you're up," Clarke said quietly. She leaned up and pushed her mouth against his in a deep, ravenous kiss. His low groan was muffled by her persistent lips. Her tongue gently flicked across his lip, begging for access.

He easily granted it to her.

Clarke soon became lost in the feel of his mouth. Kissing Bellamy was addicting. It felt like her insides were spinning over and over as he matched her movements. The warmth of his tongue, the sweetness of his breath, and the gentle rasps of his large calloused hands nearly broke all forms of reasoning.

She wanted him.

No, she needed him.

She needed to feel his body on her's and needed the feeling to return from last night. She needed his tongue, his fingers, and the part of him that she had ached for last night.

She craved all of it.

Clarke frowned when she felt Bellamy pull away from her, breaking the train of thoughts that possessed her.

"Morning to you too, Princess," he rasped. His thumb pressed more firmly into her hip. "I guess I can't complain too much if it means being woken up like this." He gave her rounded hips one more tight squeeze before disengaging from her warm, naked body. He shifted away from her and began to sit up.

The frown on her face fell into a full pout as his muscular legs and thighs became exposed as he pulled the blanket off his legs, rising from the bed.

"Where are you going?" Clarke said. She hated the whiny tone of her voice and the neediness that seemed so apparent to her.

"The sun is starting to rise. Lexa's people will be here soon, and I need to go to my post."

"The sun isn't up yet. People are still sleeping."

"I hate to break it to you, baby, but listen to what's going on outside." Clarke huffed as loud voices yelled outside the thin material of the tent.

If Clarke weren't so annoyed by Bellamy in general and by the growing need in the pit of her stomach, she would have been glowing under the pet name. But that wasn't the case. She was annoyed, so instead, she nearly growled in response.

"We can ignore that."

"Who are you and what did you do with Clarke?"

Clarke gave Bellamy a confused look. "What?"

"My Clarke doesn't shirk her responsibilities for anything."

"Well, _your_ Clarke isn't very satisfied this morning," She muttered bitterly, crossing her arms over her chest. She watched in exasperation as Bellamy placed a hand over his mouth to contain the snickers.

Dick, she thought pettily. Bellamy took a step closer towards her and laid a kiss on her mouth.

"I thought I left you pretty content last night," he breathed. Clarke's eyes fluttered shut as his sweet, warm breath floated across her face. Bellamy laughed and pulled away.

Cocky, arrogant Dick.

"Well, that was last night."

"Ah, so I've left you an insatiable monster then with my godly good looks and magical fingers."

Cocky, arrogant, egomaniac Dick.

"Ouch, Princess." Clarke bit down on her lip as she realized that she had said those last insults out loud. She needed to change tactics if she was going to get what she needed. Because, although he was a cocky, arrogant, egomaniac Dick, he was also the _pretty, _cocky, arrogant, egomaniac Dick that practically had her vagina on a leash.

Giving a small smile, Clarke sat up on the bed, letting the thin sheet slip down her chest and fall into her lap.

"You're right, Bellamy. Last night just felt so good," she nearly moaned. She arched her back and stretched her hands above her head.

A mumbled curse fell from Bellamy's mouth as he stared at her body with an intense gaze. His eyes wandered over every slope and curve.

"But you're right. I need to get up and help with the preparations," she continued. Clarke slowly slid her legs off of the bed, setting the heels of her feet on the dirt floor.

Bellamy's sharp, intelligent eyes noted each movement: each contraction of her muscles and twitch of her skin as she walked. Clarke loved the feeling of his eyes on her.

"Bellamy?" Clarke questioned innocently when she got no response. "Are you okay?"

Clarke stood up and felt the cool air brush against her bare body. Bellamy's eyes darted down past her toned stomach towards the space where her dark, golden curls rested.

"Blake?" She teased lightly, walking until she was a foot in front of him.

His eyes stared at her unwaveringly. A hungry look took over his face. She could see it in the way that the darkness pooled in his eyes and how his lips parted, a harsh breath warming her face as it escaped him. The same need that resided in her was also in him too, begging to escape.

"Baby?" she said, placing a hand delicately on his chest. He jumped away from her touch as if electrified.

Clarke shrugged her shoulders coyly and bent down in front of him, quickly grasping the thin cotton material of her tank top and bra before standing up.

"Have you seen my panties? I think you were the one who helped me out of them yesterday. Or maybe it was my other boyfriend. The one that actually knew how to talk."

The word "boyfriend" snapped Bellamy out of his stunned stupor. He smirked at her with the same hungry look in his eyes, but went over to the end of the cot and grabbed her underwear in his fist.

"You're making me wish that we could stay here all day." He walked over to her and handed her the panties.

"We technically could. Someone will get us if they need us." Clarke was one word away from throwing the clothes back on the ground and shoving him into the bed. She tilted her head and bit her lip seductively.

A look of exasperation crossed his face.

"We can't. Lexa's army, the 100. They need us." Clarke froze under the weight of his words.

She felt self-loathing rise inside her. She was disgusted and appalled by her behavior. She had promised the 100 that she would do everything to help. Instead, she was more worried about sex and feeling good.

Feeling amazing, her mind modified with a pout and a huff.

Noticing the look in her eyes, Bellamy crowded closer, clutching her cheek and tilting her head upwards towards his eyes.

"Another time, another place, I would be right there with you. It's not easy to say no to you, but we have to." He pressed a kiss on her lips and let her go, taking a few steps away.

Clarke nodded and began to put her clothes on. She could hear the rustling in the corner that signaled that Bellamy was doing the same.

When Clarke finished, she turned around to see that Bellamy had his pants on and was working on getting his boots laced up.

"What are you going to do today?"

Bellamy glanced up and gave her a confused smirk.

"I have guard duty. Same as always. What about you?"

"I'm going to see Raven before I head over to the med bay." Clarke grabbed her boots that sat on the ground like discarded trash and slowly sat down next to Bellamy, waiting quietly next to him until he finished threading his shoe strings.

She wanted to lean her head against his shoulder, but it felt too intimate. Orgasming on his fingers; no problem, but the idea of being fully clothed and snuggling, that felt awkward?

She was so screwed up that it wasn't even funny.

"Am I going to see you later?" Her thoughts were interrupted by the rough, huskiness of his voice.

"Sure. Maybe we could duplicate last night's sleeping arrangement?"

"Always trying to get me into bed," he joked, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

"And you love every moment of it."

He shrugged his shoulders and nodded in agreement.

"Can you really blame me?" He murmured quietly, stroking her cheek.

"You are getting way too soft, Blake." Clarke pulled away and stood up. "I'll meet you back here after I'm done with my stuff."

Clarke moved towards the tent exit and left without another word. She stopped short when she noticed Rivo standing nearby, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible near one of the tent's poles.

"Princess," he said in greeting.

His face was blank even though her cheeks were reddening under his gaze. He probably heard Bellamy and her talking... and probably heard when they were not talking in the tent too.

"Is there something that you needed?" She asked, walking past him. She didn't hear him following behind her but knew that he was there.

"Lexa is here." Clarke looked out towards the perimeter of the camp as if she expected to see the Grounder army covering the hill.

"Where are they?"

"They are staying just past the tree line. Lexa hasn't sent a messenger. I'm going to have to leave the camp and meet with her. Is there anything that you need from me before I go?"

There was a long pause before Clarke shook her head. There was a part of her that wanted to tell Lexa that her people were alive, that the war wasn't for nothing, but there was a bigger part that knew they had to leave it under wraps for a little while longer.

It didn't really matter anyway. The Grounders and Sky People were going to find out soon enough.

"You can go."

"I will be back soon with news." He brought his hand up in the salute that the Grounder's normally did as a sign of respect and walked towards the edge of the camp.

Clarke turned away and moved towards the engineering bay. Only a few minutes had passed before Clarke was pushing the doors open and entering the lab.

She heard the shuffle of metal and the mumbled curses of Raven's voice.

"Raven?" She cautiously crept into the room.

"Fuck!" Clarke ducked left as a piece of metal flew across the room. It passed by her ear and crashed into the cabinet behind her with an enormous bang.

"Raven!" she shouted and moved hastily through the room.

Her eyes locked onto the thin pair of legs angled out from underneath the computer.

"Give me a fucking second, Clarke."

Clarke sighed and stepped back. She curiously eyed the small pieces of metal wire and scrapes near Raven's legs.

"Can you tell me what you're doing at least?"

"No."

Clarke's eyes narrowed. She opened her mouth but shut it quickly. If there was one thing that Clarke had learned about Raven, it was the fact that you can't rush Raven's work.

She leaned back on the table. Her fingers began to tap the hard, metal top. The constant drumming did nothing to soothe her, and if anything, egged on the rising anxiety residing in her stomach.

Minutes passed slowly as Clarke waited and watched as Raven grabbed tools, cursed, then grabbed something else.

"Okay, I'm done." Raven clumsily tried to slide out from under the computer. Clarke watched silently without offering to help even when she watched her friend slam her shoulder into the metal desk. Raven could do it on her own, and would probably be angry if Clarke attempted to assist.

Raven stood up shakily and leaned heavily against the stool near her.

"What did you find?" Clarke questioned once her friend was sitting down.

"Nothing. At least nothing too interesting."

"Do you know where the signal is originating from?"

"Yes, but it's not going to help us anyways."

"The more information we have, the better off we are."

"There's a tower on top of Mount Weather. It's sending the signal and blocking transmissions." Clarke frowned in response.

"If we knock out the tower will it help us?"

"Maybe. Or maybe not. I don't have any real answers for you. We don't know the enemy well enough. We don't know the Mountain Men's resources. We don't even know if any of our people are alive, Clarke. Focusing on the tower is the least of the worries."

Clarke leaned back and bit down on her lip as if that would keep the spiteful, angry words from falling away from her lips.

"It won't hurt us if it doesn't work." Raven gave her a deadpanned expression and rolled her eyes.

"It would waste _our_ time and _our_ resources, Clarke. We can't risk that; especially since we don't know if the 100 are gone."

"What do you expect us to do then? We need to stop Mount Weather. Even if the 100 are dead." Raven's eyes pierced Clarke's. The sharpness that always lingered around the corners of her dark eyes seemed to vanish as she took in Clarke's bedraggled state.

"You're right," Raven said quietly. "They need to pay for their actions, but honestly, we shouldn't put resources towards the tower. I don't think it will help."

Clarke shook her head in frustration and refused to meet Raven's eyes.

"Yeah, okay. Thanks for the update. I'll keep those things in mind for when the Council and I meet with Lexa." Clarke gave a small smile in attempt to reassure Raven, but she knew from the downward twitch of Raven's lips that it was a weak attempt at best.

She said a quick goodbye and left to help her mom. Throughout her shift, Clarke could feel her attention getting tugged away from the people that needed her help. She couldn't concentrate on the simplest of tasks. Her mind kept drifting.

Her mom tried to help her, but when Clarke began to fill a needle with a numbing agent for a patient that only needed a bandage, Abby promptly pulled Clarke to the side with a tight grip locked around her wrist and demanded to know what was wrong.

Clarke shrugged her shoulders noncommittally and apologized.

With a disappointed look and a shake of her head, Abby dismissed Clarke to clean up and leave her alone, stating that she would rather be short a person then have Clarke waste medicine on someone that didn't need it.

Without arguing, Clarke put away the supplies as if she was in a daze and left the med bay as quick as possible.

Her thoughts seemed to be coiling tighter and tighter in her brain, growing heavy as she realized why Raven's words were bothering her so much.

The truth was that Raven was right about Clarke's plans. They were hasty and the complete opposite of being foolproof. They didn't know what they were going up against, but it seemed like the only approach.

Her mom had tried to warn her, but she didn't listen.

_When did I get this reckless? This rash?_ She frowned and rubbed her temples were a headache was lurking just under the surface.

Clarke was almost to her tent when she noticed that Rivo was standing near the entrance. His typical facial features were pulled tight from an unknown stress.

"Rivo?" He stepped forward with a hand over his heart. He held her tent open and silently gestured for her to enter. Clarke's already downturned mouth tightened into a thin line.

Dread fell over her as she stepped into her tent.

"What's wrong?"

"Princess…," He trailed off as if at a loss for words. An uncomfortable look crossed his face as he stopped short. Clarke had never seen that expression on his face.

Clarke began to ramble out the questions in rapid succession.

"Something's gone wrong… You went to speak to Lexa, right? What did she say? Is everything okay? Did she get attacked? Do we need to send someone? I can go right now."

Clarke paused, stared, and waited for an answer. Silence was her only response.

"Rivo, tell me what's wrong?"

Nothing could have prepared Clarke for the answer that she received.

"Lexa betrayed you."

Clarke's lungs felt as if they were being squeezed in a vice.

"Wh...what?" she sputtered.

"The Mountain Men sent an emissary to the camp. They made an agreement to release our people as long as we help them capture you."

"No!" Clarke yelled as if screaming at Rivo could stop the betrayal.

"Lexa agreed. She plans on using the battle to trap your people between the mountain and our ranks. No one would escape."

No, no, no, no.

"She can't do that," she cried.

"It has been decided. The allegiance between the Sky People and our people was barely holding on by a thread. It has caused strife within our camp, but Lexa wanted to stick to the treaty because she didn't want to lose you as an ally. The meeting with the Mountain Men allowed her to figure out a way to keep you and create harmony within the many tribes at our camp."

"Keep me?"

"It was part of the arrangement. Lexa agreed to everything they asked for as long as you wouldn't be part of the deal. Your people would be taken, and you would stay."

Clarke was enraged. She wasn't a pet that could be kept. She was a person, and she sure as hell wouldn't stand by as her people's freedom was taken away.

"Why me?"

"Lexa's Costia was killed. She was her great love. Lexa believes that she was reborn inside you. She wants you, and she figures this is one way to get you."

Clarke remembered the moment alone with Lexa and how Lexa's eyes seemed to admire her.

"But she wanted Bellamy," Clarke said stupidly. She bit her lip and nearly scoffed at herself. Rivo raised his eyebrows at her. "She asked for him. Wanted him to stay as part of the Trigedakru tribe when we were creating the treaty."

A treaty that was essentially a waste of time, she thought with a bitter sigh.

"Lexa's a leader, but she is also a woman. There are certain expectations that our people have for the women in our camp. Throughout her life, she will try to have a child."

"So she will still be used as a breeding mule?" Clarke exclaimed quietly. She couldn't keep her nose from wrinkling in disgust.

"It's not like that." Clarke expected his voice to be angry or defensive, but he almost seemed amused by her disdain. "Our children are no longer living as long. They come out mutilated and broken. Sickness and disease run rampant, and if you are still here in the winter, you will see just how harsh the cold is. Octavia told me that you hadn't seen snow before."

Clarke nodded her head silently in agreement.

"Well, let's just say the first time, the first day, it will seem like the gods' have blessed you. After that, you will curse it, and curse everything that comes with it. Everyone is hungry, starving, but the children suffer the most. Every winter, so many die. We live a cruel life full of death. Lexa and the woman keep us alive."

"Will she keep Bellamy alive too then?"

"Lexa?" he asked. Clarke nodded her head. Her heart fell as Rivo shook his head in response. "But she needs him. You even said that."

"Clarke, there are plenty of men to impregnate Lexa. There are not many Sky People to trade to the Mountain Men."

Clarke felt the heat in her heart rage as Lexa's betrayal began to take over. She had promised peace. The war with the Grounders were over; and with their help, the war with the Mountain Men would end too, but without Lexa's support they had nothing.

"How could Lexa betray us? We made an agreement."

"Lexa leads our people. She saved them. She was the ender of wars between the tribes. We respect her for what she did and made her our Commander because of it. But the truth of the matter, is that other leaders are always vying for more power and land. They have been using the alliance with the Sky People to turn Lexa's people against her. Lexa is just trying to keep her head."

Clarke slid her hands over her face. The gentle pounding in her head had become an intense hammering that assaulted her thoughts. She used her fingers to gently rub and prod her temples.

"Why are you telling me this? Lexa would kill you for this." Rivo stepped closer, forcing Clarke to look up towards his face. After all the time Clarke had spent with the man, she could honestly say that she had never really seen Rivo.

When she looked at him, he reminded her of a tree; dark and tall and impossibly imposing. Although, his build was slimmer than other Grounder's, he was still larger than Bellamy. He was maybe a foot and a half taller than her and seemed to hover over her with thick, bulging muscles.

His large almond-shaped eyes, which were a dark forest green, peered intensely at her. High cheekbones and a long straight nose reminded her of the Grecian heroes from her history classes back on the Ark. Thick lips curled into a frown as he gazed at Clarke.

He surprisingly lacked the complex black tattoos that typically decorated the skin of many of the Grounder's. All she could see were three dark rings circling around his biceps. There was something intriguing about them even though they were simpler than some of the other Grounder tattoos.

Rivo's voice interrupted her scrutiny of his physical features. "You gave us something that we haven't had in a while, Princess."

"Yeah? And what's that?"

"Revenge." Clarke blinked in surprise, and her mouth dropped open in a silent question. "Lexa and the other leaders forgot that not all of us agree with their choices. The people in the mountain need to pay for what they did. Trading you in and letting them live isn't right, and it's something that I, and many others, would die for." His voice was dark and profound in its anger.

"Do enough of your people believe that? Would they help us?"

"Believe? Yes, but not if it means betraying Lexa."

So they were still doomed. Without help, they were going to be traded in. It seemed inevitable.

"I can't let my people die in that mountain, Rivo," she whispered. The fear made her voice crack.

"I want you to fight. Fight like the warrior you are, Princess."

Clarke didn't know what they were going to do. It seemed like every door leading to freedom was slamming shut in her face, but she knew that Rivo was right. She was going to fight; they were going to fight.

She nodded her head. She hesitated in front of him, quickly debating the logistics of saying thanks before dismissing the thoughts entirely and throwing her arms around him. She felt him stiffen as if her touch was poisoned. He gently patted her back twice and then went perfectly still.

Clarke could feel the blush on her cheeks, but ignored her own embarrassment.

"I just wanted to say thanks," she mumbled. Her arms disengaged from his body, and she pulled back. Both Rivo and Clarke avoided eye contact for a moment as they gathered their wits over the uncomfortable encounter.

"I'm not normally a hugging person, so either appreciate it or count your blessings that it won't happen again." Clarke's cheeks became an even deeper color as the words rambled out of her mouth. A deep chuckle fell from Rivo's lips, and he shook his head.

"Yes, Princess," he said softly. "Lexa has commanded that all Grounder's leave your people's camp until the battle. I won't see you after tonight. I hope that we see each other soon. Mebi oso na hit choda op nodotaim."

May we meet again. It was one of the few phrases that Rivo had taught her, but it had meant so much to hear it spill from his lips.

Clarke gave Rivo a sad smile, knowing that this could be the last time that her eyes fell on him as a free person.

"May we meet again," She spoke in return. She watched Rivo turn and leave without a word, without another glance.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you so much for reading. I know it has been a while since I have last updated. The next chapter will be up in a few days, so it won't be such a long time in between updates.**

** Let me know what you think about the chapter. I'm curious about what you think about Rivo. Do you love him as much as I love writing about him? And how about Lexa's betrayal? For all you Clexa fans, I know this is hard to stomach, but it had to happen.**

**As always, please review. It's great to see the feedback from you guys.**


	18. Chapter 18-Gone

**A/N: Enjoy Everyone!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100. The story is rated M for adult themes and will feature spoilers.**

If You're Gone by Matchbox 20

I think I've already lost you  
I think you're already gone  
I think I'm finally scared now  
And you think I'm weak, I think you're wrong

I think you're already leaving  
Feels like your hand is on the door  
I thought this place was an empire  
And now I'm relaxed and I can't be sure

Resolutions- Chapter 17- Gone

Bellamy looked around in confusion at the obscure, empty outlines in his tent. He could see the small cot and stool sitting where he had left them. What he didn't see was the small, curvy girl that he had thought about all day.

Bellamy sighed. Where was she? A pinprick of worry began to sprout in his mind. Did she regret last night?

No way, he decided. There was no way that she didn't enjoy last night enough to want to do it again.

His mind flashed back to the image of watching her rise from the bed, naked and gorgeous, like some Greek goddess. She was all legs and curves and blonde curls.

His cock throbbed painfully as it pressed against his pants.

God, he needed her in his bed now.

With a groan, he adjusted himself and quickly turned. His long legs covered the distance between where he was standing and the exit in one stride. He knew where she was.

It took less than a minute for Bellamy to rush through the camp and end up in front of her tent.

He pushed the flap open and quickly stepped inside. He could smell her sweet scent as soon as he entered the tent. Clarke was laying on her cot. One leg was crossed over the other one. He could see her foot shaking back and forth.

"I thought we agreed on a repeat of last night?" He watched in amusement as she jumped and sat straight up. Her arms were placed behind her back, propping her up.

"Oh, sorry," she said.

Bellamy frowned and stepped closer to her. He stopped short as he saw the dulled look on Clarke's face. He rushed in and put a comforting hand on her arm.

"What's wrong?" She didn't speak, just stared back.

"I'm fine. I'm just thinking," she finally said. She gave him a small smile. Bellamy gave her an unconvinced look. On the surface, she looked almost normal; not happy, but at least she wasn't falling apart.

It took him a moment to realize that her cheeks weren't as full as they used to be. Her pants seemed to be hanging off of her more narrowed hips. She'd lost a lot of weight over the last few weeks, and everything about her seemed to be dragged down by a pressing weight.

"You can talk to me, Princess."

His frown deepened as he watched Clarke shake her head weakly.

"Look, I'm just tired. It was a rough day working with my mom."

"Is that why you didn't meet me in my tent?" Please let it be that reason and not because she was regretting last night.

"Yeah, I guess everything became very real today."

"Just a couple more days, Clarke. That's all you have to deal with before we are free from this mess." Clarke's eyes tightened almost unnoticeably, crinkling at the corners before her face smoothed out into a small smirk.

"Let's move away from my day. How was yours?"

"Not much better. Kane and a couple other soldiers had to break up a fight." Clarke's eyes widened in response.

"Between who?" Clarke exclaimed. "The Grounders?"

"No, we were lucky today that they weren't in camp. No, it was Byrne and her supporters."

"Byrne? Why do I know that name?"

"A couple years back, she was the person trying to put harder restrictions on civilians and made a motion to float juvenile delinquents instead of sending them to the Sky Box. She's pure evil." Recognition sparked in Clarke's eyes.

"Yeah! I remember that. My mom was horrified with her methods."

"It's a shame she didn't die when the Ark broke apart," Bellamy gritted out bitterly.

"Bellamy, you can't possibly believe that?"

"Clarke, you haven't seen her in action. She is a sadistic psychopath. If she had enough supporters, she would throw out the Council and your mom. She is dangerous."

"You know from experience," Clarke accused. Her hands were balled into little fists. Bellamy put one of his hands on hers, gently loosening them from their rigid grip.

"When you were sick after the incident with Finn and the Grounder village, Byrne approached me and began to interrogate me about what happened in the village." His thumb began to run small, soothing circles on the inside of Clarke's wrist.

"She wanted to escalate our fight with the Grounders by destroying the village. A preemptive strike," he scoffed. "I refused, so she tried to push for her answers."

Clarke's fingers tightened instinctively. "What did she do to you?"

Bellamy briefly wondered if he should warn her and tell her that it wasn't so bad. It would be the obvious thing to say to someone that he loved. It's what he would tell Octavia to keep her calm, but Clarke was different. She wouldn't be swayed by some pretty words and a fake smile. She was smart enough to make her mind up about the burn marks.

Bellamy twisted his torso away from Clarke. He grasped the fabric of his shirt with the tips of his fingers and began pulling it up.

"What am I looking at?" Clarke asked. The confusion in her voice was clear as day. He shivered as he felt her gentle fingers trace the path of his spine.

"Burns in the shape of lines."

The room became heavy with tension as Bellamy waited for her reply. He could hear the soft whoosh of her breaths pass through her lips. The tips of her fingers caressed the top of his first mark.

"It's healing. No infection," Clarke said clinically.

"Thanks, Doc," Bellamy said sarcastically. He looked over his shoulder and regretted the comment instantly. Clarke's expression was horror-struck, and those blue eyes that hypnotized him seemed a glassy blue-green.

"Hey, it's not that bad."

"I don't get why she would do this."

"Because I stepped out of line. She doesn't like that. Kane is dealing with the outburst."

"How did she do it?"

"Electric baton."

He watched her expression melt into a look of such deep regret. "I should have been there. I should have realized that my side was infected, and I shouldn't have let myself get that sick!"

"It is not your fault, Clarke."

"I am supposed to be a healer. I knew that it was hurting. Instead of being there, I was an idiot."

"I got hurt! It happens. Look at the rest of my back. I have burn marks and scars from the battle with the Grounders at the dropship. A small chunk of my leg is missing from my upper thigh from when I fell running from the acid fog." Pointing to his lip, he exclaimed, "I got this when I was a cadet. And this," he said pointing to a slight bump on his nose, "happened when Octavia was taken. I'm not perfect, Princess. I'm a Picasso of healed wounds. The important thing is that I'm alive. And that you're alive. Got it?"

He used his thumb to swipe at some of the moisture leaking from the corner of her left eye.

Clarke nodded her head and threw herself into Bellamy's lap. The air in Bellamy's lung wheezed out as her small, but solid build slammed into him. He smiled and shook his head, tightening is arms around her.

Clarke was a conundrum, plain and simple. She always did the opposite of what he expected.

He felt her hands reach under his shirt and creep along his back in slow circles. They traced the nearly healed scars in a relaxing, continuous pattern.

Bellamy pulled her closer and rolled onto his side. Her body rolled with him until they were both laying side by side, staring deeply into each other's eyes.

A look of mutual contentment settled over the two. Bellamy leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. He let his lips linger a moment longer before he pulled back. Clarke hummed.

"Can we just stay here tonight? I don't even want to move," she grouched softly.

"I don't care as long as you don't mind that I'm dirty."

"Aren't we all?"

"Touché, Princess. We should think about building a bath house once we get the 100 back." Clarke rolled onto her back and stared at the plastic tarp hanging over her head.

"Bellamy, what's your favorite color?" Bellamy raised his head and stared at Clarke in confusion.

"What?" He laughed.

"You heard me." She raised an eyebrow in challenge.

"I don't know, blue?"

"Why?"

"Because you put me on the spot, and it's a dumb question," He said in annoyance.

"It is not!"

"Yeah, it is. A favorite color isn't going to do anything for you or me so why does it matter on why I like the color?" Clarke's eyes narrowed. Bellamy rolled his eyes at her.

"Maybe I'm just curious. If you want me all in, then I want to be all in. I don't want to just know Bellamy the King or Bellamy the leader. I want to know all of you. Every shade and color."

"There isn't much of a difference."

"I think that's a lie."

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows at her. "Tell me what you really think then."

"I think Bellamy the King is kind of a dick." Bellamy leaned back and laughed hard at her comment.

"No, hear me out," she demanded. "That version of you was selfish. You protected Octavia, but only because you felt guilty about her being on Earth instead of safe on the Ark." Bellamy was no longer laughing. His face tightened into a dark look as Clarke continued talking.

"I'm not saying that you didn't love her or care, but you were also protecting yourself. That version of you was lonely too. Really lonely. So you didn't mind using the girls. You hadn't had anyone since when your mom was floated, and Octavia was taken away, so when you got down here, you finally felt free."

"Clarke, stop, I get your point." Bellamy rose off of the bed.

"Bel, I'm trying to show you that I get it. I'm trying to throw myself into this and show you that I care."

"And this is how you do it? By pointing out my flaws and less than redeemable traits? You're missing some key details if that's the point. You might as well throw out that I killed three hundred innocent lives. That I tried to kill Jaha. Led the 100 into a battle with the Grounders. Allowed them to get captured by Mount Weather. Don't forget all that, Clarke. Otherwise, your list would be a little inaccurate." At one point during his rant, Clarke had sat up onto her knees. She grasped his face roughly with her hands.

"Hey, stop!" Clarke exclaimed. "That was not my point, Bel. That is one side of you. You wanted to survive and be someone different. I'm not judging you because of it. I would do the same."

"There's a lie if I ever did it hear it," Bellamy spat bitterly. Clarke leaned away from him and let her hands drop to her side. A look of pure desolation covered her face.

"I would sacrifice a lot, Bellamy. I would sacrifice everything if it meant saving the people I cared about," Clarke confessed. Her voice was broken and wispy as if conjuring the breath to make her words come out of her mouth was too much effort.

"And just so you know, Bellamy. You aren't that same person. You aren't selfish or bad. If you were that person, I wouldn't be here."

Bellamy felt the anger inside him evaporate with that simple statement. She wouldn't be here. She would be with someone like Finn if she didn't see the potential in him.

His eyes clamped tight before opening and settling on her.

"What other questions do you want to know?" Clarke gave him a large beaming smile and reached for his hand, tugging him farther into the bed until they were settled in their original position, facing each other.

She began rapidly shooting off questions. Her eagerness surprised him. After each question rolled out of her mouth, she would sit patiently and listen to his answer attentively.

"What did you do on the Ark in your free time? What was your favorite book? When did you finish school? What was your mother's name? Did you have any close friends? What did you hate about the Ark? Did you ever have a girlfriend?"

Bellamy answered every question as thoroughly as possible. She was trying, and he wanted to give her the same courtesy. He finally made her stop when her pouty lips stretched into a huge yawn.

"Okay, Princess. Time to sleep." Clarke tried to argue, but her words were interrupted by another jaw-cracking yawn.

"This is not up for debate." He leaned forward and pressed a passionate open-mouthed kiss to her lips. Her hands instantly wrapped into his hair, and pulled him closer. He smiled as he felt her try to deepen the kiss. He pulled back and gave her a toothy grin.

"Tease," she mocked.

"You love it."

Clarke gave him a shy smile and kissed his cheek gently. She moved back just a little bit opening her mouth slightly before snuggling back against his chest. He wanted to ask her what she was thinking or tell her the words that were running through his mind.A

_I want you._

_I need you._

_I love you._

Instead, he allowed his cheek to rest on the top of her head and let her soft, warm breaths lull him to sleep.

* * *

Bellamy jerked awake in a panic.

Something was wrong. He blindly reached beside him. Clarke's side of the bed was cool; and more importantly empty. He frantically tore the sheet off, not knowing what he expected to find, but hoping for some sign that told him where Clarke was.

Something fluttered near his legs, partially landing on his knee. Bellamy reached down. His fingers closed around a flimsy piece of paper.

With his heart thudding painfully, he held the paper up to the moonlight that filtered through the tent's woven fabric.

His heart stuttered as he read Clarke's handwritten scrawl.

_No, no, no._

Something in his heart was squeezing tighter and tighter. She was in danger. She wasn't here.

She was gone.

He let go of the paper and flew out of the tent. A whirl of wind carried the worn, aging paper until it landed on the dusty floor.

Blood red lettering scratched out a final message: _May we meet again_.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed! Please leave a review and let me know how you felt.**


	19. Chapter 19-Outreach

**A/N: Enjoy Everyone!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100. The story is rated M for adult themes and will feature spoilers.**

Someday You will be Loved by Death Cab For Cutie

In the morning, I fled  
Left a note and it read  
Someday you will be loved

I cannot pretend that I felt any regret  
'Cause each broken heart will eventually mend  
As the blood runs red down the needle and thread  
Someday you will be loved

Resolutions- Chapter 19- Outreach

Clarke gritted her teeth as her hand brushed against the cold, steel paneling of the Ark. She clenched her hand and pulled it closer to her side. She could still feel the warm wetness of her torn palm. The coagulating blood and aching pain were a reminder of what she had done.

It hurt. It hurt a lot, but instead of it being a physical pain that originated from using a dagger to write a final message in her blood, it was the emotional distress that she had left and betrayed Bellamy.

He will hate me when he finds out, she thought with regret.

Although does it really matter, the other part of her mind argued.

Her plan had two simple outcomes. Death or freedom. If this didn't work, she was dead. She wouldn't have to see the hurt that would blaze like a beacon in his dark eyes, and if she did live, if she saved her people, he would be too relieved to be mad.

Clarke glanced quickly at the fence.

It was still dark, but she knew she was close to the spot where Bellamy had kissed her. She checked the ground for something to throw at the fence. She noticed three rigid twigs clustered near the fence post and picked them up.

She eyed the fence post and took a few steps to the right. She flung the first stick at the wall and frowned as it fell to the ground with a small pop and a trail of smoke. The fence was on. Clarke took four more steps and crouched down. Her hand ran over the small blades of grass on the ground. She grinned as some loose pieces caught on her palm.

This was the spot.

Clarke stood up and chucked the second stick at a different section of the fence. She watched with satisfaction as it fell to the ground untouched by the electricity.

Clarke quickly made her way over to the barrier. Without hesitation, she kicked the wire with the tip of her leather boots. When nothing happened, Clarke bent the thick cord of wire down and quickly slipped through the fence.

She didn't falter. She didn't turn back; she just began to run. She didn't even think about what she was leaving. She just moved through the field as if a wall of acid fog was chasing her.

The tall grass whipped across her pants and trailed against her bare arms. As she made it to the edge of the forest, she slowed for a moment. She slid the straps of her bag off and searched for the item that would help aid her.

Her hand grasped a small book with worn pages and shredded edges. In the dim lighting, Clarke could barely see the drawings that covered the outside of the book.

Clarke's fingers trailed over the ends of the book and slowly pulled the book open. Her eyes scanned each page as she flipped through the journal until she finally landed on a page that had a map of the area surrounding Mount Weather.

Clarke's cerulean blue eyes eagerly drank in the finer details of the map until she knew where she was going. Quickly, she placed the journal in her bag and righted the shoulder straps.

Clarke quietly thanked Octavia and Lincoln. Without Lincoln, she never would know where to go, and without Octavia, she wouldn't have obtained this map.

It had been pure chance that she had stumbled onto this map.

Before Octavia had left, she had begged the younger Blake sibling to bring her the books from Lincoln's home. At the time, she didn't know that Lexa would betray her but knew that Lincoln had cataloged his travels and was curious about his adventures.

It took several explanations and a little resistance before Octavia finally agreed and sent Rivo with a bag full of journals. Clarke had spent a few of her evenings pouring over the drawings and nearly illegible symbols.

After placing the book into her pack, Clarke promised that she would leave after one more moment. She took a deep breath, holding the air in her lungs until she couldn't hold it any longer.

As the soft breath escaped her small mouth, she continued walking away from Camp Jaha. The gentle crunch of her boots and the whispering of the wind through the branches followed her as she escaped the only place that she had believed was safe.

* * *

Walking through the semi-lite forest quickly became torture to Clarke. Without the threat of the Grounders, Clarke only had the distraction of her thoughts. In her head, she had imagined every scenario, pulled apart each word, and considered each move that she would make once she arrived at Mount Weather.

When she ran out of ideas, her mind quickly became lost in thoughts about Bellamy.

He would be awake soon. She wondered what he would do when he found her missing. She hoped that he wouldn't come after her.

She was careful not to leave a trace. She had cautiously followed a stream of water that ran towards Mount Weather to cover any tracks.

If he did attempt to follow, she knew that her mom would stop him. She would forbid him from leaving even if it meant condemning Clarke to death. Abby would focus on the upcoming war. They would welcome the traitorous Grounders into the camp, finish their strategies, and storm Mount Weather.

At least, that's what she hoped for.

A few more hours had passed before Clarke stopped walking. She was finally standing in front of the iron vault. Her legs hurt and her throat burned with thirst, but she only noticed the pain that rested on her shoulders and heart like a massive boulder.

Without a second thought, she raised her hands above her head. She tried to contain the nervous fluttering in her stomach as she gazed at the door with cold, hardened eyes.

This place was either her saving grace or her tomb; she just had to wait and see.

Minutes felt like hours as she stood waiting. The hair on her neck stood up as she heard leaves crunch. Clarke waited until she heard the footfalls on the ground and the snapping of branches as someone ran near her.

She immediately dropped down to her knees and folded her hands behind her head. She hoped that her clear sign of submission would save her, but she didn't know what to expect.

Clarke glanced up just as someone appeared in front of her. The man frowned at her and nodded in the direction behind her. Clarke's mouth opened, but before she spoke a sharp burst of pain exploded on the back of her head. Darkness bloomed in her eyes, and she tumbled to the ground.

* * *

Clarke moaned in pain and tried to pry her heavy lids open, but all she could see was darkness. She shifted and tried desperately to open them again.

She blinked against the luminous lights. She shifted and froze as she felt her cheek brush against a scratchy, white sheet. She sat up in a panic and gazed around. Her eyes froze on a man seated in a chair watching her.

"Hello, Clarke. To what do I owe this pleasurable meeting to?"

Cage smirked at her as she stared blankly in his direction.

"Cat got your tongue, Clarke."

"Where's your father?" Clarke's voice came out in a husky garble. She coughed and sat up straighter.

"He's indisposed right now. Why don't you join me and we can get to the bottom of this little visit."

"Indisposed?"

"A disagreement occurred. Change happened. That's all you need to know." Clarke's teeth ground together. She hated the look on his face. "Join me, Clarke."

Clarke rose from her place on the medical cot and gently walked forward. She looked at the hard metal chair seated across from Cage. She clenched her hands and bit the inside of her cheek. Without sitting, she said," I'm here to settle this problem. You have my people."

Cage smiled.

"Your people? The ones you left are still safe and sound. They want to be here." Clarke gritted her teeth as she absorbed the lies that poured from Cage's smiling mouth. His teeth gleamed unnaturally bright under the fluorescent light. She realized that unlike his father, there was a level of desperation that seemed to coat his waxy, pale skin like a curtain. She could practically smell the stench of fear and wariness that he had for her.

"Last time I checked, capturing teenagers and harvesting them didn't mean that they were safe. Three went missing. Where are they, Cage?"

The smug smirk slipped off his face.

Clarke smiled sweetly at the man. "You have a rat. Not all your people agree with this madness," she said, answering his unspoken question. "I want you to stop the marrow transfers now."

"If you know about the transfers, you must know that we can't stop."

"I know that they've worked. I know that you have successfully started to process the radiation." She let the anger seep into her voice. "I know that you are torturing my people to do it."

"If you know all that then you must realize that coming here was suicidal."

"You're killing them," Clarke repeated.

"Yes," he answered clearly.

"Do you not feel guilty?"

"I will do anything to get our people to the surface."

"Anything?"

"We are dying down here, Clarke. Survival is key. You as a leader must understand the truth of that. We are one malfunction away from dying. The radiation makes us feel sick all the time. You say that I am torturing and killing children, but living here is torturing the children and adults of Mount Weather."

Clarke eyed Cage. She could understand the logic of needing a solution, but she hoped that she would never have to make a decision like Cage had. There was a small part of her that pitied him.

"You are heading for a disaster here. You're solving a temporary solution while killing the only cure that works. Can you handle that?"

"We can live with the guilt."

"I'm not talking about a guilty conscious. I'm talking about the marrow transplants working long term. Like I said, we have an inside guy. They shared Dr. Tsing's notes with me. She should have been more careful about where she left those, but I digress; the point is that the marrow is a temporary solution."

She victoriously watched as his mouth twitched into a small snarl before smoothing into a small smirk.

"Care to explain?" The condescension dripped off of each syllable.

"Temporarily, it will work. You will be able to live on the surface, feel the sunshine on your face, the grass on your feet. But then something will happen. Something that should be amazing, but instead will incite pain and agony in your people." Cage stared at her blankly.

"Your women will give birth to a new generation, and they will all burn from radiation poisoning."

Clarke watched the small frown on Cage's face turn into a glower.

She continued, "The transplants might work for you, but being able to process radiation is linked to genetic factors. The Grounders and the Sky People have a genetic disposition to live on the post-nuclear planet. Your newborns won't, and you will all die because of it."

She could see the cogs turning inside his head as he processed her news.

Finally, he said, "You're lying!"

"It's the truth. I swear it is! You're people have done things that are wrong, but we still need you."

"And why is that?"

"There are very few of us humans alive. We are a rare species because of our ancestor's decisions to spill pointless blood. Do you think I want that blood on my hands? Your blood?"

Clarke's eyes tightened at the corners. Her brain raced as she said the next sentence.

"I can offer you a permanent solution."

"In exchange for your friends," Cage filled in.

"In exchange for my people."

They eyed each other, silently waiting for the other to submit to them. Clarke paused impatiently. He watched her for another moment before gesturing for her to continue.

"As far as I see it, you have a choice. The first option is that you kill us now and destroy the cure that could keep you alive. The place that once sheltered you will become a tomb as the technology that once saved you from the radiation continues to fail. The other option is that you don't kill us, you stop stealing bone marrow, and we create a peace treaty."

"How does that save my people?"

"A voluntary transplant draft."

"And if no one volunteers?"

"The leaders of my people will decide on that. And you can continue to research other methods as long as experimental testing is not conducted on humans. Maybe a doctor can discover a more permanent solution."

"And you're expecting me to believe that there will be no backlash from this incident?"

"No, there will be. You have to step down as the leader of your people and the doctor that led the research will have to do the same. We are willing to compromise to some extent, but clearly, some things can't be ignored," Clarke said simply as if they were talking about the weather.

"I will need to think about this."

"No," Clarke demanded. "You will make this decision now. You can live or die, but that choice will be conferred to me within the next five minutes."

Cage looked at Clarke. For the first time since she had begun to talk, she could see that his annoyance had turned to anger.

He stood and paced behind the large desk.

"You have to offer something as a sign of goodwill."

Without hesitation, Clarke said, "I will be the first volunteer."

"And that's it?"

"That's it. We can end this without any casualties. You just have to take me to the 100, show me that they are safe and sound, and then I will give you my marrow. We will be allowed to leave, and I will come back in three days with five volunteers."

"And the other prisoners?" Clarke wanted to tell him that the Grounders weren't her problem. Lexa's betrayal still stung, but she couldn't help but remember the fear that the Grounders felt as they cowered in their cages and the pain of the Reaper from Lexa's tent. They didn't deserve that abuse no matter how Clarke felt about their leader.

"You will help us wean the Reapers of the drugs and release the Grounder prisoners to me." Cage pursed his lips in response. His hands clenched and unclenched.

"If we free the Reapers, then we will be left defenseless. The Outsiders will turn around and slaughter my people without that leverage."

"We are not intervening with the Grounders' problems with you. You tortured them. You have to find a way to work that out. My people are staying out of it."

"Fine," he gritted in disgust.

"Are we done with the questions?"

"Yes. I'll agree to your terms."

"Wonderful," Clarke said sarcastically. "I want to see my people now."

"That might not be possible right now." Clarke's eyes narrowed into slits. She could see the nervous way that Cage's eyes darted around.

"Why?" She gritted. Cage licked his lips and tapped his fingers on his navy blue pants.

"The teenagers have locked themselves into the bunker that you slept in. We have been trying to gain access to the area for a couple of days with minor success."

The disdain dripping from his voice made the back of Clarke's neck prickle with annoyance and anger.

"You were trying to kill them. I'm sorry that it inconvenienced you to deal with such rebellion. Bring me to them."

"It's been quite volatile," Cage said with a sneer," I can bring you to the floor, but you will have to find them yourself.

"I know where the bunker is."

"Then this way, Clarke."

Cage stood up and walked over to the door. His hand disappeared into his coat and grasped a thin card. He slid the I.D. card into a slot, pushed the door open, and exited the room. Clarke quickly hurried after him.

Silently, they walked down the corridor and stepped into an elevator. Cage pushed the fourth button from the top.

"Once you step off the elevator. You are on your own. If you can get them under control, you can talk to us by activating a panel near your dorm."

"I've seen it."

The doors open and Clarke rushed off only to stop short. She remembered this hallway. The metal walls were as pristine as a building that survived a nuclear war could be. Clarke turned around just in time to watch Cage's smirking face to disappear behind the heavy elevator doors.

Clarke slowly turned around. Her foot crunched over a broken glass panel. Lights flickered, blinding her. She blinked a few times before continuing forward. Various pieces of splintered wood blocked her path, causing her to climb over the furniture.

In a moment of carelessness, a piece of fabric from her shirt caught on to the end of a crushed chair. The sharp ends tore at the fabric, leaving a small, gaping hole in it. Clarke ignored it and with more urgency walked farther down the hall.

Her thoughts became more scattered as she noticed the blood smeared across the floor. She had to keep reminding herself that they were alive. Cage had sent her down to living people, not more death.

Clarke knew she was almost at the dorm rooms. She tried to climb across a clump of bunk beds that blocked her path. Just as Clarke cleared the structure and landed heavily on the cement floor, a pair of hands grabbed at her clothes and threw her against the metal frame of a bed.

Her breath rushed out with a hiss. She felt the hands jerk her forward before slamming back into the metal posts of the bed. Bursts of pain bloomed behind her head and along her spine. A strange keening cry came out of her mouth.

She writhed away from the hands, trying to loosen their grip. As her body began to twist, the hands let go of her shirt. She felt a small amount of pride surge through her at successfully fighting the person off, but that happy feeling quickly diminished as the large hands crept towards her neck. The long fingers wrapped around her neck, squeezing and tightening like a vice.

Clarke's throat burned as the hand grew tighter and tighter. She tried to kick at them, but the loftier, heavier body had her pinned.

"Wait!" Someone called. Clarke could hear the scraping rasp of furniture being shoved out of the way as someone clambered through the broken barriers in the hallway.

"Clarke. It's Clarke. Stop!" The hands around her neck loosened slightly but remained around her neck. Clarke sucked in a deep breath and coughed.

"Miller. Let. Go." Clarke finally looked into the dark brown eyes of Bellamy's second in command. Wide and terrified, he stared at her like she was a stranger.

Clarke felt her throat tense up as if his hands were still tightening around her throat. He looked like a scared child or a skittish, broken animal that was searching for an escape.

His eyes were filled with exhaustion, pain, and oddly enough, weariness. Clarke was confused by that single emotion that seemed to stay on his face.

She remembered how he had greeted her when they first arrived at Mount Weather. He had been relieved and excited. Now, he looked at her like she was the enemy.

He hastily released her and finally stepped back.

As Miller retreated a few steps, Clarke could see the young man that had saved her.

"Jasper!" She cried. She immediately stepped forward and threw her arms around his shoulders. He didn't hesitate in her enthusiastic grip and pulled her as close as possible.

She could feel his slime former shaking in her grip, and she stiffened slightly before drawing him closer, hugging tighter. She wanted to take his pain away. Clarke was a healer and to see Miller and Jasper like this, the blood on the floor, and the war scene in the hallway made Clarke wonder what her people had experienced while she was safe away from Mount Weather.

Tears welled in her eyes.

Clarke pulled back and tried to smile, but it was too hard. "I-," she cut off and tried to clear her voice, "I'm glad you are okay."

"I'm glad you're okay too," He gave her a soft smile before scanning around them. A frown marred his face. "We need to get out of here. It isn't safe."

"We can't bring her back," Miller said, shifting uncomfortably.

Jasper shot him a look of disbelief.

"What?"

"Jasper, you aren't the least bit curious about how she ended up here in the middle of the Mountain after weeks of nothing."

"We were trying to rescue you," Clarke said, calmly.

"Whose we, Princess?"

"Bellamy, Raven, the Ark."

"What?" Jasper and Miller exclaimed in unison.

"They are alive. Bellamy, Finn, Murphy, and Raven; they made it. And the Ark didn't explode. Well, that's not completely true. Some of the stations couldn't withstand the initial landing, but some did. And I met your dad, Miller. My mom is alive too."

Jasper and Miller stared at her as if she had grown two heads.

"How did you get here, Clarke? Why did you come alone if the Ark made it?" Jasper asked after a moment of silence.

"They don't know that I left."

"Since when did the Princess get so bold?" Miller said sarcastically.

"A lot of things have happened since I escaped," Clarke whispered quietly.

"Since you ran!"

"Mil-," Jasper started. He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, but I came back."

"Why alone?" Miller barked back.

"We can talk about that later. Like I said, a lot has happened."

"You don't need to tell us that," said Miller bitterly.

"Miller. Cool it."

"No, Jasper. As much as I want us to be safe and for this to be over, it can't be. It's too easy. Even if she isn't in on it, it could still be a trap."

"Miller-"

"No!" Screamed Miller. Clarke flinched as his voice echoed around the room.

"Harper, Monty, and Fox are dead. I won't be next."

"Miller, I promise you are free."

"What did they want in exchange then?"

"They want marrow, so I struck a deal to give them what they want." Clarke took a step closer and put her hand on his shoulder. "I am so, so sorry that it took me this long to get you. I would have been back sooner if I could have."

Miller frowned and looked away from Clarke.

"You came back. That's all that matters. Monty knew you would come back. He promised," Jasper whispered softly. Clarke looked into his eyes.

"I wasn't going to leave you, guys."

After a tense moment, Miller looked behind him. His shoulders slowly lowered from their stiff posture.

"We should get you back to the group."

"How many are there?" Clarke asked hesitantly.

"In the group? Forty. Fox, Harper, Willow, Allen, Rover, and Grant are missing. Maybe dead.

"And Monty," Jasper whispered.

"Yeah, and Monty is missing," Miller clarified.

"We can get him back, Jasper. We just need to get everyone together and leave this place."

"It won't be that easy, Clarke," Miller declared firmly. "It never is."

"Clarke… Are we really free?" Clarke could see the deeply seeded fear; it made the dark rings under his eyes stand out and made him look hollow. She placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Yes. We are going home."

* * *

**A/N: Hi Everyone. I wanted to apologize for my absence with this story. I never wanted to leave this story incomplete or stop posting chapters. I have had a couple of hard months. My cousin who was the most amazing person passed away right after I posted the last chapter. She was my biggest supporter with writing; always willing to edit them or just give me her opinion. Without her, I struggled to write this chapter, but I am definitely back and will begin posting more regularly.**

**I dedicate the rest of this story to my beautiful cousin.**


	20. Chapter 20-Entry

**A/N: Enjoy Everyone!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100. The story is rated M for adult themes and will feature spoilers.**

All I Want by Kodaline

All I want is nothing more  
To hear you knocking at my door  
'Cause if I could see your face once more  
I could die a happy man I'm sure

When you said your last goodbye  
I died a little bit inside  
I lay in tears in bed all night  
Alone without you by my side

Resolutions- Chapter 20-Entry

Bellamy looked over the camp with a small amount of disinterest.

Two weeks.

Two weeks had passed slowly without any answers or any signs that Clarke was alive.

How could she have done this? She left without any word, and Bellamy hated that she did this. She left the 100, and she left him. What's worse is that he didn't understand why she left.

They were good. The plan was solid with Clarke leading the Grounders and Abby leading the people from the Ark.

But with Clarke gone, everything was falling apart at the seams. Fighting was breaking out between the adults in both camps and the plan to invade Mount Weather was quickly decaying.

Two weeks and everything had collapsed into a chaotic, sopping mess.

Two weeks.

_Bellamy looked down at the scrap of paper. He recognized the tiny dark scrawl as Clarke's handwriting. Bellamy's chest heaved as he reread the words over again. _

_She left. She left without a word to him, to her mother, to the Grounders that she was supposed to lead. _

_She left me. Bellamy stood up as an agonizing pain exploded in his chest. He paced back and forth like a caged animal._

_How could she leave me without a word? _

_The message raced through his head. He crumpled the letter and threw it. In a panicked frenzy, he darted out of his tent. _

_As he left his tent, he slammed into a small, lithe body. He grabbed onto the girl's arm and held her steady as she swayed back from the impact of their bodies. Bellamy's face lit up as he looked down at his little sisters annoyed face._

_"O, thank God. I need you to get Rivo and have him get some horses ready now!"_

"_Where's the fire?" A look of confusion and worry crossed her face. She folded her arms over her chest and rocked on her heels._

"_Octavia, just get him to do it."_

"_Where's Clarke? I came to talk to her."_

_Bellamy's face distorted as his sister said 'Clarke.'_

_He took a deep breath and said, "She's gone, Octavia."_

_Octavia's eyes widened in shock. _

"_Gone?" She whispered. _

"_She went somewhere alone. Please just get Rivo. Tell him we need two horses."_

"_What are you doing?"_

"_I need to get guns, and I need to let Abby know."_

"_You're going after her."_

"_Of course."_

"_You love her," she stated sadly. Bellamy shook his head at Octavia._

"_I can't do this now."_

"_Okay, okay. I'll get Rivo."_

"_Thank you." He took off in the opposite direction as her. His long legs carried him through the camp towards the Chancellor's tent. _

"_Abby!" he yelled outside her tent. He heard rustling for a moment before Abby stepped outside. A look of confusion sat on her face._

"_Bellamy?"_

_Bellamy didn't mince words; instead, he went for the jugular as he said, "Clarke's gone."_

_The confusion melted away as fear became the most prominent emotion on her face. _

"_What do mean she is gone?" She whispered, horrified._

"_She left this morning. I think she is going to Mount Weather. It's the only place I can think of. I'm going after her. But, I need access to a gun ."_

_"Bellamy you can't go after her." Bellamy felt the hair stand on his neck. He was dumbstruck by her words._

"_What?" His voice sounded like a cannon in the still of the night. "I wasn't asking for permission, Chancellor Griffin. I'm letting you know and asking for your help."_

"_What was your plan, Blake? Going to Mount Weather is a suicide mission. I won't let you go. If Clarke is already at Mount Weather and they are experimenting on our people, then we have to accept it."_

"_You are going to let them take her," he hissed. Disgust rose in him as he analyzed the woman in front of him. She was willing to sacrifice her daughter instead of letting him go after Clarke. Bellamy thought that Abby would protect her and was shocked to hear differently._

"_Yes." _

_"I can get her—"_

"_No. These people are dangerous and desperate. Desperate people who are killing children. You know how dire the situation has to be if they are willing to do that. Clarke made her choice. We have to accept that and continue with our plans with the Grounders. That is how we will get her back. We have negotiations going on today. Now, I'm going to finish writing up the terms, and you are going to connect with Kane and continue to do your job. There will not be a rescue mission. Do I make myself clear?"_

_Bellamy stared silently at her. _

"_Do I make myself clear, Bellamy?" She growled. Bellamy looked down but nodded his head._

_Without another word, she turned around and entered her tent. Bellamy tried to come up with another argument, but he couldn't think of a reasonable one. He left with his heart sinking deeper into his chest._

"Bel," Octavia shouted beside him.

"What?" Bellamy snapped.

"I've called your name several times."

"Of course you have, O." Octavia growled and had to restrain herself from punching her brother in the face.

"I know what your problem is. I know it sucks, but you need to get your act together. We are all missing people. You can't act like this just because one girl left."

"People were stolen from you. She left on her."

"Yes," she agreed, "she decided to leave. You need to accept that."

"Yeah, thanks for that, Octavia. You can leave now."

"Bellamy."

"Leave!" Bellamy scowled at his sister. The rage that should be directed at Clarke for her leaving was billowing inside him. Maybe he would regret yelling at his sister later, but right now, he just wanted her to disappear.

Just like Clarke.

Octavia started to leave, but she turned her head towards him again. "Fine, but if you don't get your act together, Kane is going to make you snap out of this little mood," she called over her shoulder.

"I'd like to see him try," Bellamy yelled back.

"You'd like to see what?"

Bellamy could hear the curiosity in the female's voice. He spun towards the woman who was smirking at him.

"Nothing, Gina."

"Oh, wow. Okay. What's with all the false bravado?"

"I said that it was nothing." Gina paused and looked at him. One dark brown eyebrow shot up.

"Hun, it obviously isn't. I can just listen. I won't even say a thing."

"I really don't want to talk about it."

Bellamy watched as her small hand swiped at her dark, curly hair, pushing some loose strands out of her face. She took a breath and bit her lip. Bellamy's eyes narrowed a little at the change in her face.

"Then we don't have to talk."

She took a step forward. One hand reached for his hand. He flinched back as her fingers attempted to brush against his hand.

"Gina…," he said after a moment.

"Look, we were friends on the Ark. It could have been more if things hadn't changed." He shook his head in response.

"Gina, you have been there for me these last couple of weeks. You know I appreciate it."

"And you know I appreciate you."

Bellamy let out a barking laugh and shook his head at her antics.

"Geez, Gina. You were always worse than me when it came to pickup lines."

"You were just jealous because my lines worked a lot more efficiently than yours, and I always got the boys and girls."

"Whatever, G."

"I knew you back then Bellamy. I always liked you. You were always there for me."

"You weren't always there for me, though. You abandoned me when my sister was taken. You said that you were on my side, but when push came to shove I lost everyone, everything, and you just added to that. You were my best friend. You helped me get through training; you helped me forget things, but then O was caught, and our friendship just disappeared."

"I was upset with you. You never told me about Octavia. I trusted you to tell me about that, and you didn't."

"I couldn't. O is my family. I couldn't risk that."

"Then let's just forget the past. We both made mistakes, right?" She tried to reach for his hand again. He let her touch him this time.

"We can always be friends, Gina." He squeezed her hand lightly before letting go. "That should be it, though."

"Why?" Her look implored him to speak. He couldn't understand why she was pushing for this all of a sudden.

"I love someone."

"That girl that ran away."

Bellamy felt his chest thud painfully. The anger inside him exploded again, but he took a deep breath and swallowed the rage.

"Her names Clarke, but yeah."

"You don't even know where she is."

"Doesn't change my feelings, G."

"What if she-,"

"Don't even say it," Bellamy threatened softly.

"But if she doesn't come back, are you going to give someone a chance? You should. Why couldn't I be that for you?"

Bellamy felt like he was at a loss for words. Gina was a beautiful girl. With dark hair that curled like satin ribbons, a pouty smirking smile, and beautiful brown eyes, Gina was a male's dream girl. She was also brilliant and tough as nails which added to her appeal.

The problem was that she wasn't his dream girl. A girl with golden hair and bright blue eyes had stolen that spot and left him enraptured. He wasn't going to just forget that.

"Gina, it's not like you aren't attractive to me or anything like that. I just can't think that way. Clarke is alive. I know she is. I care for you. I'm so glad that you are down here and that we have started talking again because you were important to me."

Gina crossed her arms and turned away from Bellamy, staring out into the abyss that surrounded the Ark. He could see her shoulders shake just slightly but didn't hear a noise. He took a step closer to her and put his hands on her shaking shoulders.

"I really am sorry, G."

"I don't want your pity, Bellamy," she whispered shakily.

"I know better than that. You would kick my ass if I did," he said jokingly. They stood for another minute. His eyes were on her while she took the moment to calm down.

"I wonder how things would be different if Octavia weren't ever caught," she said distantly. Bellamy felt a bit of guilt shoot through him. He tried to ignore that feeling.

"Do you remember that journal that we read together that was written about the multiverse theory?"

"You were always the nerd, not me," she muttered acerbically.

"It was the one that says that every choice a person makes creates a separate universe; so one person wouldn't have just one life or universe. They would have an infinite amount of realities based on their choices." Gina looked over her shoulder and peered up towards Bellamy's face.

"Uh, sure." Bellamy laughed at the bogus look of self-assuredness and the slight upturn of her crooked smirk.

"Bullshit!" He said. His hands fell towards her waist.

"Yep," she agreed with a slight giggle in her throat.

"Back to the multiverse thing. If that theory is correct then there would be a parallel universe where O wasn't caught and my mom wasn't floated, another universe where I didn't shoot Jaha, and one where I didn't lead the 100. Hey, maybe I never, ever even made it to the Ground. Maybe I ended up in a universe where I die on one of the exploding Ark stations."

"Or maybe we were together."

"Maybe. Or maybe we aren't. This universe is a different one. Who knows what the outcome would have been."

"Very deep Mr. Blake."

"Why thank you. You know, occasionally I do spew out a few words of wisdom."

"I think occasionally is the key word here."

"And occasionally you are kind of a brat."

"Occasio-," she said, her voice trailing off. Bellamy could feel her stiffen.

"What's wrong?" He asked. He quickly leaned over and peered at her face. Her eyes were scrunched up in concentration as she peered away from him.

"Movement near the tree line. Look!" She pointed toward the northwestern part of the field. Large evergreens loomed over the area blocking his view. Bellamy watched for movement. He saw a shadow cross underneath the trees.

He moved away and ran towards the ladder. He clambered down into the courtyard and bellowed, "Movement outside the gate!"

He ran farther into camp, yelling the entire time. As he reached the bell, he grabbed hold off the thick rope. The heavy metal ball that was attached to the rope slammed into the old bell causing the alarm bell to ring out.

After a few more rings, another bell went off in the camp and then another until all he could hear and see were the Ark's soldiers scrambling towards their position.

He watched as Major Bryne took off out of her tent and made her way towards him.

"What did you see, boy?" she growled. Bellamy had to bite his tongue at the "boy" comment.

"Movement in the northwestern field. They haven't left the tree line yet." Bryne took off into a run. Bellamy flanked her, listening and waiting for orders. His hand pulled out the handgun that he kept holstered at his waist.

"Grounders?"

"We weren't expecting them until tomorrow."

"Mountain Men."

"Unlikely."

They reached the ladder and quickly climbed towards the second story platform that allowed the soldiers from the Ark to peer over the gate and observe the field.

"Anything yet, Lieutenant Martin," Bryne asked Gina.

"No ma'am," she answered, "Every once in a while you can see movement."

"They must be waiting for something," Bryne mumbled. She narrowed her eyes and lifted her gun a little. She placed her gun into the bipod that was set up on the gate. She leveled her face towards the scope and closed one eye, peering through the scope.

"I can't see a goddamn thing. Our enemies know our weakness," she hissed. She lifted her gun up again.

"Should we send a scout?"

"No, let's spook them." Bellamy opened his mouth in warning, but it was all in vain as several shots were fired into the air from Bryne's gun. Bellamy listened as the shots faded.

Nothing. No sounds were made, and the air had seemed to still with the threat of more gunfire.

The rest of the guards stood at the ready in their positions near the gate.

Bellamy peered towards the edge of the field again, but couldn't see any movement.

"Major Bryne, please let me scout out the area," Bellamy pleaded. He had an awful feeling about this. "If you shoot a Grounder, it could mean war."

"You don't have to. Someone's stepping out."

Bellamy looked out towards the field again. He watched in surprise as a small girl limped out with her hands raised above her head. His mouth dried up as he recognized the slender form and bright, blonde hair.

"That's Clarke."

Bellamy turned away from Gina and Bryne. He was already racing towards the ladder when Bryne's cold, hard voice rang out.

"Stop, Blake!" Bryne called.

"Why? It is just Clarke."

"You saw more movement. This could be a trap to lower your guard. That gate will stay shut until I give the order." Bellamy turned and looked outside the fence in desperation. He watched as Clarke slowly inched forward.

"Something is wrong with her. She needs help."

"No," demanded Bryne. Bellamy's mouth twisted into a snarl. He took a step towards Bryne.

"What do you think Chancellor Griffin would say if she knew that you were taking a chance with her daughter's life? Maybe we should find out," Bellamy said. The growling tone of his conveyed the unspoken threat. This time, he would get his way.

"Bellamy," Gina warned quietly. He watched as the small figure stumbled. Her hands lowered in a desperate attempt to catch herself before she hit the ground.

"Make your decision," he barked staring at the Bryne's vacant blue eyes.

"Fine. You can get her. If it is a trap, you're on your own." Bellamy didn't hesitate to climb down the ladder.

"Open the gate," he yelled at the guards. They hesitated. "That was an order from Major Bryne."

The men looked at each other and shrugged. They helped Bellamy push the bulky wooden gate open. Bellamy quickly took off across the field. His gun was still in his hand, but he had lost any sense of self-preservation.

Clarke quickly realized that someone was running towards her. When she realized it was Bellamy sprinting towards her, she tried to move faster, pushing her body frantically towards him.

He didn't stop until his body lightly slammed into her. He threw his arms around her and pulled her into his chest.

Clarke's body shook and shuddered in his grip. She desperately clawed at his clothes, trying to bring him closer to her.

"Oh god. God, god, god," he murmured into her head. He could feel her breath exhaling in small, little pants against his chest.

He didn't want to, but he needed to pull back and look at her.

"Let me see you." His voice was rough as if he hadn't used it for several weeks. He put his hands on her shoulders and took a step back. She was hurt. There was a reason why she was limping but for some reason, he couldn't figure it out with his quick glance.

To be honest, she looked one hundred percent healthy. Her skin was clean with no scratches or bruises, and her clothes looked brand new without a drop of blood.

"What the hell are you wearing?" He blurted out. She stared at him in silence. "What's wrong, Princess?"

"There are survivors from Mount Weather behind me," she mumbled. "We need to help them."

"Wait! What?" He shouted. His eyes darted towards the wooded area. Bellamy looked at her like a second head had popped out of her shoulder.

"Bel, we can talk later. Some people are hurt." Bellamy stared into her blue eyes trying to gain some sense of balance. As soon as she said that people were injured, he turned around and gave Bryne a signal that everything was okay.

"Where are they," he said moving into action. She pointed over her shoulder and gave a wave.

After a long moment, Bellamy watched in amazement as Jasper stepped out, then Miller. Soon ten, fifteen, and then forty people were walking towards him. Bellamy's mouth dropped.

"You got our people back?"

"I had to, Bel," she said as if that was enough of an answer. Bellamy watched as Jasper and Miller began to run towards him.

Behind him, he could hear shouts coming from Camp Jaha. Apparently, someone had realized who the people were that had emerged from the forest.

Bellamy took a few steps towards Jasper and Miller, meeting them in the middle of the field.

"Bellamy," Jasper cheered. A crooked smile lit up his face as he stopped in front of Bellamy. Bellamy stared at Jasper as if he was in a haze. "Surprise," Jasper joked.

Bellamy chuckled and leaned over giving Jasper a quick hug. Miller approached him in a more unobtrusive manner. Bellamy took another step closer and offered Miller a one armed man-hug.

"Nathan!" Miller flinched away from Bellamy and looked over his shoulder.

"Dad!" Miller called in shock. He took off into a sprint towards David Miller, who had come out of the gate. Bellamy watched as other people materialized from the camp in search of loved ones.

Slowly, the survivors from the Mount Weather ambled into camp. Bellamy observed in awe as people laughed, cried, and swallowed the teenagers in hugs. Even strangers came over and patted the kids on the back and cheered them.

Bellamy looked over at Clarke.

"You did this?"

"Yeah," she said with a slight shrug as if this moment wasn't a big deal.

"You were at Mount Weather this entire time?" Bellamy tried to keep his voice calm.

"Yes."

"You didn't think it was important enough for me to know your plan?" He growled. Clarke looked at him slightly shocked at his abrupt tone.

"There-."

Someone called out for Clarke. Bellamy and Clarke looked over towards the voice and discovered that the voice belonged to Abby.

"We aren't done with this conversation," Bellamy promised her. "You need to find me after you deal with everything." Without another word, he walked over towards Kane to receive instructions.

* * *

Several hours had passed before Clarke wandered into her tent. Bellamy had been sitting tensely on her cot for the last twenty minutes expecting Clarke to arrive soon.

Clarke walked over towards the bed. Bellamy jolted up when he felt the bed move. He didn't want to be near Clarke. It would make it too hard to stay angry at her when all he would want to do is push her back into the bed and kiss her.

Bellamy couldn't stay still. He kept going back and forth in the tent. His movements were heavy as if he was trudging through a dangerous mire. Clarke's eyes followed his hunched form, warily waiting for the impending outburst. She opened her mouth, but quickly closed it as his eyes, dark with unrestrained fury, turned on to her. Clarke nearly cringed under that look.

Bellamy opened his mouth before snapping it shut. He turned away from her and kicked his leg into a dull colored bucket that rested on the ground. The bucket skidded across the floor, clanging into the metal post of her cot.

Clarke did cringe that time.

Expletives flew from his mouth as he wildly searched for something to punch or kick. Finding nothing, he looked at her over his shoulder once before his sturdy frame slumped down.

His harsh breathing tore at her heart.

"Why, Clarke?" Clarke's throat squeezed shut at the lack of emotions in his voice.

"I had to-"

"I don't mean why did you do it," he exclaimed, "I meant why did you disappear without a word, without talking to me, without including me. I had no idea what happened. I just knew that you were gone, and I probably wouldn't see you again."

"I had to, Bell." Clarke knew better than to reach towards him, but there was a nagging sensation that kept making the tips of her fingers twitch impatiently.

"You could have talked to me. I could have helped."

"You wouldn't have let me go alone. I had to do this alone."

"You're right. I wouldn't have. We had a plan that would have worked. We had an attack strategy; we had a Grounder army supporting us. We had a few things to work out, but we could have gotten our people out together. Instead, you left without a word on a suicide mission."

"We didn't have the Grounders," Clarke cried suddenly.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Bellamy, they were going to betray us. Rivo came to me and let me know that the Mountain Men went to Lexa with a deal; us for their people. The battle was a trap."

Silence enclosed the two people that occupied the tent. Clarke felt like she was being strangled by the quietness.

Bellamy frowned at her and shook his head. "Rivo might have lied."

"No."

"We don't know his motives. He could have."

"No," Clarke whispered softly.

"Why didn't you tell me this before you left?"

"I made a decision that I had to save our people. You would have wanted to go with me, Bel. I know you. You would have said you were coming, or I wasn't going. Neither of those choices was an option. I've been there, and you haven't. They could have killed you."

"They could have killed you. You already looked like you were dragged through hell and back. You clearly are hurt."

"It isn't that big of a deal."

"What happened when you got there?"

"I convinced him that taking our marrow was a temporary fix. He believed me, and then I got our people out."

"That took two weeks? Why are you coming back just now?"

"I made a deal to save us. It required a little more time than I initially thought."

"What deal, Clarke? Stop being so fucking cryptic!"

Clarke looked at Bellamy in a helpless sort of way. He would be so angry when he found out. He would hate her for imprisoning their people in another treaty. She had signed away everyone's rights to get her people back.

"Bellamy, can we please talk later? I'm exhausted and hungry and don't want to talk about this."

"Too bad, Princess," he snarled angrily. "You decided to leave without giving me anything except a goodbye note. I want answers."

The obstinate streak in her rose up. She could feel a prickling behind her eyes and the red hot heat that always appeared when she was frustrated began to burn her cheeks. This was Bellamy the King talking to her, and she was pissed.

"I'm not talking now," she declared stubbornly.

Bellamy' eyes flashed heatedly. She could see his cheeks flush a dark maroon and his jaw jut forward as he realized that she wouldn't give into his demands.

"I thought that when you agreed to be with me things would change. That our partnership would be stronger, but now I realized that you did change. Just not the way I thought you would."

He shook his head and looked at her in defeat. "Since the fight at the dropship, you have made it pretty clear that you were going to do what you believe is right. Finding the Grounders, creating the alliance, giving them one of our people. Clearly, you have one goal. And that is doing things by yourself. Whatever the hell you want, right? Why did you even come back if that's all you are going to do? I'm done with this bullshit. When the real Princess comes back, please let me know."

Clarke's eyes were watering with unshed tears, but they soon began to leak out of her eyes as she took in each low blow. He looked at her in disgust and then shook his head again when he realized that she wasn't going to talk.

He turned and left her tent. His heavy steps seemed like anvils landing on her head. Each step hurt more than the last.

Clarke could feel her heart racing in her chest. A pounding filled her ears, and she could feel the wall inside her break. Part of her was shocked that Bellamy would dare say that, but he wasn't wrong.

She had changed and not in the right way. She hadn't considered Bellamy as equal in most of the choices.

She didn't think she could trust him to do what she wanted so instead she ignored him. Despite everything that he had done to support her, she tried to handle most of the situations alone.

Clarke's knees crumpled underneath her. How could she have done this? Clarke started to feel her breath escape in small gasps. She put a hand on her chest as if that would help heal the tightness that resided there.

A choked gasping laugh wheezed out of her mouth as she realized that she was having a panic attack.

She had gone through so much; all of the 100 had. She had almost died; her body ached from getting her marrow removed, but that was just the tip of the iceberg for what she had been through, and still, instead of having a meltdown for that, she was on her knees having a freaking panic attack over Bellamy. Bellamy freaking Blake.

She half laughed, half squeaked again. After a moment, Clarke bent her legs and leaned forward so that her head was resting on her knees.

She thought of Bellamy and took several calming breaths.

After some time, Clarke could feel the sharpness in her chest ebb.

In the end, he was right. Things had changed. She thought she was adapting to survive, but instead, she was turning into a person that she hated.

She had essentially said damn the consequences and decided that she was going to make the decisions herself. Bellamy hadn't let her down, but she had.

She didn't need to be dependent on him, but he was her partner in this mess, and she owed him a lot more than she had previously given.

Clarke wiped ferociously at her cheeks and charged out of the room. Her joints ached and felt like they were grinding against shards of glass, but she ignored it.

Her stride quickened as she rushed past guards, wandering children, and busy adults.

She nearly slammed into someone, but she stopped herself.

"Raven!" She exclaimed when she realized who she had narrowly crashed into. She threw her arms around the tall beauty. She felt Raven stumble back before reciprocating the hug.

Pulling back, Clarke barked out, "Have you seen Bellamy?"

"Bel? Yeah, about seven minutes ago."

"Where?"

"He was heading towards his tent." Clarke threw her a grateful glance and ran off towards the place that Bellamy was. Once there, Clarke moved into the tent without hesitation.

She could see Bellamy hunched over his bed. He looked up when she entered. Clarke was horrified to see that his eyes were red and bloodshot.

Clarke raced forward and launched herself into his arms. She heard the expulsion of air from his lungs as her body slammed into his chest.

Her hands wrapped around his back.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I'm so sorry."

The words continued to flow out of her mouth over and over again as she clung to his body. She felt him shudder as her warm breath blew across the base of his neck.

She quickly pulled back and placed her hands on his cheeks. She clutched at his face. The roughness of his hair scratched the palms of her skin. She gently forced his head up.

"Do you know how sorry I am?"

"Does it change anything?" He said. The defeat in his voice was heartbreaking. Clarke slid out of his lap and landed on the floor in front of him. Her right hand clung to his knee.

"Not from the past, but now I know. I know what I did, and I'm not going to do it again."

Bellamy scoffed and tried to turn away from her again.

"Please don't. I know I messed up."

"I thought you were dead. I thought they had tortured and killed you. But I put on a brave face and when anyone else would suggest that, I told them that you couldn't be dead, that I would feel if you were. I said that to them, but then three days passed, and five, and by seven days I was convinced that you were dead." He wouldn't make eye contact with her. Clarke just wanted him to look at her, and realize that she was truly repentant.

"No. There wasn't even a chance of that."

"You left me."

Clarke's throat burned, and her eyes welled with tears again as she saw the pain in his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"I can't even tell you how much that hurt."

"I'm sorry." Clarke's hands reached for his face again. She tried to make him look at her.

"Stop saying that!" He exclaimed. His hands wrapped around her wrists and pulled until they fell away from his face. "I imagined a hundred scenarios, but it didn't matter in the end because I still didn't know what happened to you. And now you are still keeping secrets. Again? Part of me thinks that you are going to run and leave without a word again."

He closed his mouth and leaned forward. His elbows rested on his knees while his hands immediately began tugging at his dark hair.

"Bel, I know I messed up. I was scared when Rivo came to me. I didn't trust Lexa, but I thought we could count on the treaty. I felt trapped, and I couldn't let you get hurt."

"You still did, Clarke. Don't you get that?" His voice was twisted with pain and rage.

"I know." Clarke leaned her weight against his shoulder.

"You can't do that again with me, Clarke. I'm serious."

"I won't."

"Promise."

"I promise. I can't leave you. Even If I tried it... I won't. I… I love you too much to see you like this again," she stuttered not even thinking about what she was saying.

Bellamy's face turned sharply towards her. His eyes seemed like dark, unfathomable abysses as he stared at her with an intense, penetrating look. The corners of his mouth were downturned. She anxiously waited for a response.

She could feel her chest thudding painfully. She was scared that he would reject her. They hadn't been together long, and she could tell that he was still furious with her betrayal. Speaking her mind seemed like a recipe for disaster.

"What?" He asked dumbly.

"Look, I am definitely not expecting you to say anything back," she muttered, "I'm not saying this to make you forgive me. I'm telling you because it is the truth. I just want you to know that I do trust you, and I do care for you. I love you."

"Clarke…," Bellamy began.

"No," interrupted Clarke. "You seriously don't need to say anything right now. I know it seems strangely too soon for me to say anything, but when I was in Mount Weather all I thought about was you and how I missed you. I wished that I had said it before, but I didn't, and now I have the chance. Seems like a waste if I didn't say something."

She stopped herself by finally biting down hard on her lip. She clenched her hands into small fists. The pain from her nails slicing into her palm started to ease her anxiety but not by much.

Bellamy stared at her silently. His eyes scanned her face back and forth.

"I'm sorry if I am upsetting yo-." She stopped suddenly as Bellamy grabbed the back of her neck and brought his lips towards hers in a single searing kiss that burned their souls and healed the betrayal within him.

When he pulled back from her, they both panted breathlessly. His hands still cradled the back of her neck. He let his fingers slide to the base of her throat and along her jawline until he was cupping both of her cheeks in his large, calloused hands. His thumb gently stroked her smooth skin.

"Does that answer any questions?" Instead of nodding in yes, she stared at him blankly. "If it isn't clear, I love you too. This isn't one-sided, Princess."

His thumb brushed over her lips, caressing them. Her eyes were locked on to his. She could see the beautiful warm, brown color glowing inside the poorly lit room. Her face flushed red, and her head began to swim with a thousand unspoken words.

Bellamy's thumb suddenly stopped on her bottom lip. Her lips parted slightly as they stared and waited; they were both waiting and anticipating the others' next move, and when they finally met explosions could have been going off in the camp and they wouldn't have noticed it.

* * *

**A/N: So, the 100 is safe and sound inside the camp. Always a win. Any predictions of what is going to happen next? Please review if you liked this chapter or even if you didn't. I would love to hear the feedback.**


	21. Chapter 21-Floating

**A/N: Enjoy Everyone!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100. The story is rated M for adult themes and will feature spoilers.**

No Light, No Light by Florence and the Machines

Would you leave me,  
If I told you what I've done  
And would you need me,  
If I told you what I've become?  
'Cause it's so easy  
To say it to a crowd  
But it's so hard, my love,  
To say it to you out loud

Resolutions- Chapter 21- Floating

Clarke was lost.

She was lost in the feeling of Bellamy.

This moment was not like other times when Bellamy had kissed her and held her. Here, she was loved by him, and he was using every motion, every kiss, every feeling to show her the extent of his all-consuming love.

The intensity and power of their mutual love seemed to light the room in a blistering blaze.

She desperately gripped his shoulders as he ravished her mouth.

His attention soon switched from her mouth to her neck. His lips moved away from her mouth, drifting across her jawline, lingering near her ear, and then gently ghosting across her neck. She shivered in excited response.

He placed a gentle, open mouth kiss on her neckline, then another on the dip of her clavicle. She squirmed slightly as she felt the sharp edge of his teeth graze her neck. She arched as the stinging pain was quickly soothed by two slow swipes of his wet, warm tongue.

Clarke lost track of time as he slowly worshiped her exposed skin.

During that time, Bellamy had somehow managed to roll her onto her back and was hovering over her prone body. Leisurely, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers for one more lingering kiss before pulling back and catching her eyes.

Clarke didn't react except to extend her hand out and delicately brush a wayward curl out of his face.

He watched her carefully. Clarke could tell that he wanted to say something. His eyes seemed to change color as pure trepidation crossed his face. She could see fear, anger, and frustration brewing in his eyes. She tried to convey in her eyes that she loved him, cared for him, and would never leave him again.

He must've understood because he dropped his body more heavily against hers and mashed his lips against hers. She nearly gasped when she felt his tongue thrust into her mouth.

There was something desperate in the way he moved; like he would lose her if he let go of her even a little. She tried to push back against his tongue, swirling them together in a domineering battle, but soon became lost in the motions.

She whined in pleasure as his hand snuck underneath her loose shirt. His hands roughly cupped her breasts. She was practically writhing underneath him as his mouth moved to nip at the sensitive patch of skin on her neck and his finger pinched her nipple.

"Bellamyyy," she moaned breathlessly. She didn't know if it was a question, the beginning of a demand, or a pray, but he smirked anyways.

"Off?" He asked, tugging at her shirt a little.

"Now," She groaned in response. In less than a second, Bellamy was sitting back up and had his fingers at the hem of her shirt, pulling it upwards over her raised arms. He pulled at the shirt with one final tug until it was off and flying across the room.

Clarke laughed and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back down until he was hovering over her again. His large hands were resting on both sides of her head, creating a solid cage around her. She bit her lip, eyeing the ripple of muscles in his arms as he attempted to keep most of his weight off of her small frame.

He smirked a beautiful, crooked smile at her in response to her obvious scrutinizing. His hand caressed the skin of her waistline.

"I really don't want you to tease me today. Please, don't stop," she begged, peering up at him through her eyelashes. She bit down on her pouting lower lip.

"Not a fucking chance in hell, Princess," he groaned and put his hand on her hip, dragging her hips closer to his. His eyes darted to her face, hoping to see the same burning desire that was in his eyes.

The lust inside of him quickly fizzled as he noticed a pained mien cross her face. She bit down on her lip, and her shoulders became hunched.

Bellamy froze.

"Hey," he murmured softly. "What's wrong?" His fingers lightly stroked her cheek.

Clarke opened her mouth to speak but quickly clamped her lips together. She stared at him with a fearful expression. Tears slowly began to leak from the corners of her eyes.

"Clarke, baby. Whatever it is I can help," he soothed.

"I don't want to tell you, Bel. I'm scared that you will be angry over what I did."

Bellamy frowned.

"What did you do?"

Clarke chewed on her bottom lip.

"You promised me that you would be honest with me."

Clarke sighed at his words. He was right again. Even though she was petrified at the thought that he might be angry, she had to trust him.

Instead of talking, Clarke leaned down and unzipped the bottom of her pants. Bellamy's eyes were locked on the movement. As the zipper hit the last groove, Clarke moved her hands to her waistband and began to pull it down.

Bellamy's hand stilled her movements.

"What are you doing?" His voice was rough, and she could sense the frustration at her lack of an answer.

"Trust me."

Bellamy stared at her for another second or two before he let go and curiously watched as she pulled the waistband down exposing her hip and the upper portion of her thin, black cotton underwear. His eyes shifted back and forth between her eyes and the exposed hip.

She didn't know if he could see it, but just the tip of a dark bruise peeked out from the waistband of the dark cotton.

"They needed bone marrow, Bel. We had just one bargaining chip that they wanted."

"What did you do, Clarke?" Bellamy demanded, but Clarke knew from the horrified expression on his face that he had figured it out.

His fingers snaked out and grasped the fabric pulling it out of the way exposing deep blue and black splotches near the rear of her hipbone. A small raised mark in the center of the bruises showed exactly where a needle pierced her skin to gather bone marrow.

"They did this to you?" He whispered.

"Yes, but I let them." His fingers trailed over her skin. She flinched a little. His hand recoiled back a few inches.

"Did that hurt?"

"Not from your touch. Moving around hurts more than anything."

"And when they did it?"

"That was worse. They didn't do much to help with the pain." A look of agony crossed his face.

"You shouldn't have gone through that," he growled.

"You're angry," she assumed. Her voice was blank and void of emotion, but her eyes gave her away. She used the back of her hand to rub roughly at the wet skin underneath her crystal blue eyes, but fresh tears just replaced the ones she got rid of.

Bellamy slowly shook his head at her.

"Princess, I am angry that you were hurt. I'm angry that you went through it alone. I am angry that you didn't tell me, but I'm not angry with you for allowing that to happen."

Clarke's lower lip trembled.

"You will be."

Bellamy sighed and leaned forward again, clearing the tears off of her cheek.

"No. I won't," he argued. His voice was firm and unwavering as he looked at Clarke.

"Yeah, you will. Bellamy, I didn't just promise my bone marrow to free myself. I had to get everyone out of there alive. If I didn't get them the bone marrow that they needed, then we would still be missing or dead."

Bellamy stared at her in confusion. She could see the gears in his head turn as he tried to figure out what she meant.

"How much bone marrow?" He finally asked

"Enough for three hundred people. I alone wouldn't have enough marrow to do that. They had already harvested on Monty, Harper, as well as a few others. For it to work, they would have had to harvest all of the 100. I made a more lasting deal."

She paused hoping that he would catch on.

"I'm still not exactly sure what you really promised or even what went on in Mount Weather."

Clarke began to tell Bellamy about what happened in the mountain. He listened to her recount the story of what happened when she woke up in Mount Weather without interrupting. When she told him of how Miller had grabbed her and threw her against the bunk bed, she could see the tick in his jaw start.

"They were scared, Bel."

"It doesn't matter," he muttered.

Clarke rolled her eyes at Bellamy.

"It looked like a war zone, and from what I heard, it was. They put up a hell of a fight."

"Of course, they did."

Clarke gave him a small smile at the look of pride on his face. He was acting as if the 100 were his kids and he was the proud father watching them take their first step.

"Jasper said that after Monty disappeared things escalated fast. Instead of just one person going missing after a 'medical exam,' the Mountain men tried to take two kids without any answers. When Jasper realized what was happening, he let the other members of the 100 know what they were doing. They made a plan, found weapons, and began forming a blockade to defend themselves."

"Jasper did that?"

"They've changed. All of them."

"What happened to the ones that were taken?"

"Three died. There was too much damage done to their bodies. Fox was still alive when I was there, but I couldn't help her."

Bellamy grasped her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. He knew that exact feeling of loss when someone died under his watch.

"Who made it?"

"Monty, Harper, Grant, and Willow."

"And they are okay?"

"No, they are definitely not okay. They went through their own hell. I had the surgery, Bel. There isn't an IV or any pain relief, and I had a choice. They didn't. They were forced into a room where they were bound, visionless, and scared to death. And then when that wasn't enough, someone decided to shove a rod into their hip without anesthesia. Monty is broken. He wouldn't talk to Jasper or me. In the two weeks that we were in Mount, he didn't say a word to anyone other than Miller."

"It will get better when he adjusts."

"I really hope so." Clarke huffed and flopped back on the bed. "They have been in so much pain since we arrived on this planet. When we arrived at the camp this morning, they were terrified even though I promised them that it was safe. How sad is that?"

Bellamy leaned so that he was hovering over her body.

"Survival of the fittest, Clarke. They adapted to that model. But now everyone is safe, and it will be our job to help them recover."

He smiled down at her.

"Bel, I couldn't guarantee complete safety against Mount Weather. It's like I said, we are bound to Mount Weather through that treaty. Every single one of those people will need to have the surgery before our deal is done. Everyone in camp here has to fulfill that promise."

The smile slipped off his face as he finally realized what she meant.

"Everyone?"

"I guess not everyone, but most. Young children wouldn't have to donate of course," she clarified quietly.

"Does your mom know?"

"Yes. I left her a bit shell-shocked by the news, but in the end, she agreed that it was for the best. She will work with Mount Weather to develop a safer practice to extract the marrow, but in two weeks Mount Weather will be free to go to the surface without fear of radiation poisoning."

"Two weeks."

"Maybe sooner, but I doubt it. The surgery can be a real bitch," she stated, smirking just a little out of the corner of her mouth.

Bellamy stopped for a moment. Clarke reached and brushed her hand through his hair. She reveled in the feeling of his soft, thick curls clinging to her delicate fingers. She could see there was something that he wanted to say.

"What, Bel?"

"You found the one solution to prevent a war between our people," he murmured quietly.

Clarke bit her lip and looked at him through her long, dark eyelashes.

"We do what we have to survive, right? Are you upset?"

Clarke was waiting for the bomb to drop. He hadn't yelled, hadn't criticized her, hadn't even told her off. It was only a matter of time before he flipped his lid.

But, the bomb didn't go off.

Instead, he said, "No, right now I am just amazed. Think about it; when we landed, most of us were a bunch of miscreants, and you were just the rejected council princess sent to Earth to die. The council didn't think we would survive, but we did. The other adults from Camp Jaha didn't believe that they could stop the Grounders, but you did. You stopped that war, and you stopped a war with Mount Weather."

He softly chuckled.

"I used to hate everything about you. I thought your ways would get people hurt, but I was completely wrong." He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. "I'm amazed by you, Princess."

This time, when he bent down, he placed a lingering kiss on her lips. Clarke let her body get caught in the gentle tug of his soft lips. When he began to move away and off of her bod, she grumbled in annoyance, grabbing on to his shirt and holding him still.

"Don't pull away this time," she demanded.

He looked at her with an agonized expression. His hand lightly tucked a silky tendril of hair behind her ear.

"With you being hurt, we can't do anything tonight, baby. I can't hurt you."

"You won't." Clarke brought her hand up to his face and slowly pulled him forward. He stubbornly resisted. "We have waited too long for this. I trust you, and I know you won't hurt me."

Bellamy still wasn't moving. Clark could feel her cheeks flush a little. Rejection and embarrassment were stewing in her.

"I love you. And you love me. Show me that." Her fingers clung to his shirt. Her knuckles were slowly turning a pale white as she clung to him.

The look of apprehension faded into obscurity as he listened to the words flow out of his mouth. A gentle smile graced his face as he looked down at her.

"I have your back," he murmured.

"Me too," she said, beaming back at him.

This time, when they kissed, she didn't have to pull him towards her mouth. They were meeting each other as equals; as partners.

She could feel his body slowly pressing down on her. She sighed as their bodies met, melding together in a tight embrace.

He moved back a millimeter from her face, "Is this too much?" His breath gently grazed across her skin, flooding her with a gut-wrenching feeling. Her lips parted, but no words were able to spill. Her head shook slightly.

"I love you," he murmured.

Clarke's eyes welled with unshed tears as her chest seemed to constrict from the words.

"I love you, too."

Always. The unspoken word in her head became a silent mantra as she slid her hands down the front of his clothed chest until her fingers danced around the bottom of his shirt. She gently began tugging the shirt up and over his head, refusing to break eye-contact until she had too.

The voice inside her head wanted her to look at his body; to see his olive skin, ribbed stomach muscles, and the light trail of hair that led down south, but her eyes couldn't seem to leave his. The tenderness and adoration in them left her feeling ensnared in his chocolate brown gaze.

After a moment, Clarke could feel Bellamy's hands slip behind her body. The warmth of his palms slid up her back, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their path. She felt his fingers start to work on the small metal clips that held her bra in place.

A look of pure concentration clouded his expression, but he couldn't seem to get it off.

She arched her back to help him gain better access to the material. When she felt the material begin to slouch down, she couldn't help but laugh at the victorious smirk that garnered Bellamy's face.

His smile widened as he cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Are you laughing at me?"

The smile slipped off her face as she tried to put a look of complete innocence on her face and shook her head. She even batted her eyelashes at him.

"Well, that's a shame, because if you were, I have a few ways to fix that."

"Well then, maybe I was laughing, but just a little bit," she smirked at him flirtatiously. Bellamy froze and narrowed his eyes before he quickly grabbed at the straps of her bra and snatched them away from her body. He flung the bra over his shoulder as if it had caused him a great personal injustice.

"Are you still laughing, Princess," he asked wickedly.

"Yes."

Bellamy quickly leaned forward and buried his face in between her breasts. Using his lips and tongue, he lavished the skin there with attention. Shocked by the suddenness of his action, a bolt of electricity shot towards her core, inciting a heavy cry from her lips.

He continued to trail wet kisses between her breasts back and forth until she couldn't stand it. She took her hands off of his shoulders and dug them into his dark, silky curls, forcing his head towards her right breast.

He hissed in pain-filled pleasure from her hands, but took her insistent suggestion and began to softly tease her breast.

Whimpers escaped her mouth as she felt his tongue circle one areole, before flicking his tongue against her pink nub. Her other breast was preoccupied with his thumb and forefinger. His long fingers continued rolling her nipple between the two fingers until it was fully elongated.

She clenched her thighs together as he switched breasts, sucking her nipple into his mouth. She arched up against him as she felt the dampness of her core saturating her panties.

"Please, please, Bellamy." The pleas fell from her mouth subconsciously as she continued to try to alleviate the building tension in her legs.

Bellamy pulled back and gently pushed her legs apart so that he could settle in between them. His pupils were completely dilated as he stared into her wide, lust-filled eyes.

"God, you look so fucking good right now," Bellamy crooned. His voice was rough, and so goddamn sexy that Clarke felt lightening zip through her body towards her clit as his words flooded through her head.

Bellamy leaned back down and captured her face with his hands. He forced her lips against his, biting and pulling at her lower lip before thrusting his tongue into her mouth.

She matched his movements, using her hands to scratch up and down his back. She loved the way his muscles twitched and shivered under her fingers.

She could feel his fingers dance down her neck, trace over her breast, and trail down her stomach.

His lips curl up into a smile as he felt her stomach muscles clench in anticipation.

"These need to go," he growled snapping the waistband of her pants against her skin.

She raised her hips up in response. Bellamy sat up onto his knees and grasped the material with his long, agile fingers and guided the material down her legs. When he reached the bottom, he tugged one boot off and then the other.

She rose up on her elbows and watched as he gently pulled the socks off of her delicate feet. Bellamy grabbed her ankle and slowly brought it to his lips. She could feel the whispery brush of his mouth on her skin.

Bellamy lowered her leg back onto the fur blanket on her bed and shuffled back towards her.

One finger stroked across the hem of panties. Each small touch felt like flames licking at her skin, setting her core on fire.

Clarke waited impatiently for him to make the next step and take off her panties. After several seconds of waiting, Clarke finally understood what he was doing.

His finger would dip under the black cloth before returning over it. It was taking everything in Clarke not to thrust her hips up when his fingers returned under the thin fabric. A whimper escaped her as she felt his finger trace a small trail through her damp golden curls.

"Bellamy, fuck! I need more!" she demanded impatiently.

Clarke's words seemed to be Bellamy's undoing as his control shattered into pieces. Clarke could see his brown eyes darken to pure black at her words. Without another word, he hooked his fingers around the scrap of fabric that shielded her wet and aching core from his piercing gaze. He yanked the panties down her legs and tossed them aside.

His mouth was instantly at her neck leaving nipping kisses and teasing rubs along her skin. She could feel her body aching for his touch.

Caught in his frenzy, Clarke reached between them and tried to help him out of his clothes, but she couldn't get the right angle to get rid of the last bits of fabric that kept them apart.

"Pants off," she rasped.

He didn't hesitate to lean back. His fingers made quick work of unzipping his pants and pulling down the course fabric off of his hips, down his legs, and over his feet.

Clarke took that time to admire his body. With each movement, she could see the muscles in his arms and shoulder ripple. His lean body seemed to be teeming with more toned definition than the last time she had seen him without clothes on. Apparently, in the last two weeks, he had not been sitting around doing nothing.

She ached to touch his skin and to be touched, but she wanted to only touch him when there wasn't another barrier in the way.

Clarke's eyes darted away from his body when she noticed that he wasn't moving to get rid of his boxers.

Bellamy kneeled in front of her, bare-chested and beautiful. He was staring at her with a look of indecision, lust, and tenderness.

She didn't feel weak or vulnerable underneath his stare; she felt like a goddess.

She shifted up, ignoring the uncomfortable twinge in her hips. When she was inches from his skin and could feel the heat radiating off of him, she slowly put her hand on his stomach. His stomach muscles contracted sharply underneath her col fingertips.

He watched her with slightly hooded eyes. She decided it was the look of sex; pure and simple, lazy and incredibly erotic.

"And these," she whispered, sliding her hands along the thick line of muscles. She let her hand drift just a little lower, loving every single moment.

Her gaze followed her fingers until she was eyeing his boxers. She bit down on her lip, and her eyes widened just slightly as she noticed the prominent bulge in his underwear.

Curiosity sprung inside her as she wondered about what she would discover inside his boxer shorts.

Her fingers trailed lightly across his stomach and through the dusting of course, light brown hair, continuing down the trail until they reached his underwear.

The tips of her fingers slipped under the fabric, but instead of teasing him, like he enjoyed doing with her, she merely lowered the fabric over his hips and down his lean, built legs. He helped her take them off once they were around his knees.

Clarke's breath huffed out in a heated sigh once her eyes fell on his manhood. It was heavy and erect, taunting her with its length and thickness.

She wanted to touch and taste it, but more importantly, she wanted it inside her, pressing into her and stretching her.

She extended her fingers forward. The tips of her fingers just brushed against the head of his swollen erection.

Bellamy hissed causing her eyes to dart up to his face in concern. The look he gave her sent such a thrill throughout her body. His jaw was clenched shut, and his dark eyes were focused intensely on her hand.

Clarke reached again. Her fingers gently caressed the dark head of his dick. Her finger lightly traced the silky smooth skin. As she passed over the thick mushroom shaped head, Clarke could see several dewy drops leaking from his swollen skin. She wanted to feel the weight of his skin in her hands and explore every uncovered inch.

"Bel, can I…?" She gestured towards his extended member.

Bellamy's eyebrows knitted in confusion before smoothing into a gentle smile.

"You've never done this before?" he questioned, his voice was rough and husky with need. Clarke shook her head and bit down on her lip again.

Part of her wondered if she should be embarrassed about her own ignorance, but with Bellamy, she didn't feel that way. His experience and her experience was vastly different, but not knowing everything about sex was not an aberration. It just meant that they had so many different opportunities to explore her naiveté.

Not realizing her train of thoughts, Bellamy wrapped his hand around hers. Clarke felt her stomach twist with nervousness at the feeling of his large calloused palm settle over hers.

He guided her until her hand was loosely wrapped around his dick.

Clarke breath stuttered as she felt the heavy weight in her palm. The texture and feeling weren't completely unknown to her, but it was still foreign to her. Bellamy groaned a little when she squeezed a little firmer testing her boundaries.

His skin felt softer than she expected; like a silk casing that covered a thick, pulsing steel pole.

"Show me what feels good to you," she said demurely. Bellamy's hand tightened on hers before he began to move it. First, he slid their hands towards the head of his dick. Her palm slipped over the purplish head capturing the drops of pre-cum. A heavy breath blew through his nose as their hands glided across the top.

The extra moisture allowed her hand to glide more smoothly over his shaft. He showed her exactly what he liked. Their hands followed the path down before moving back towards the top. Each movement brought a small growl from the base of his throat.

She passed up and down three more times with him setting the pace before he let go of her hand. Clarke felt the apprehension build in her stomach and hesitated. He watched her like a hawk, waiting to see what she would do.

Clarke chewed on her lip a little, before straightening her shoulders a little. Tentatively, her hand tightened around his shaft again and began moving. Up and down. Over and over again.

The noises that Bellamy made were the best reward. Each groan and moan just made the desire in her spread a little farther than before until she was practically salivating.

"Just like that, babe," he grunted. His eyes, heavy with pleasure, clenched shut in response to her treatment. His head lolled back as he relaxed under her ministrations.

Clarke's curiosity took over again as she watched him. She wanted to explore him and discover what felt the best. This time, when her hand reached the base, she gently tightened her hand over his stiff rod, drawing a ragged, deep groan from his mouth. As she began to move up, she twisted a little.

Bellamy's answering vocalization renewed the ache in her core. Clarke nibbled on her lip as she stared up at his face. She took the time to watch each passing emotion and facial expression change as she tried to hone in on her newly cultivated skills.

She soon learned exactly what pace he liked, where to move, and when she became bolder, she discovered how he liked the sacs behind his manhood to be gently rolled back and forth in her hand.

She could see the thin sheen of sweat begin to glisten on his temple as he fought for control. His mouth was clenched tight, and she could see the famous throbbing tick near his jawline. Clarke sped up slightly. Down, up, down, clench, twist, up. Faster and faster, with more alacrity, she moved until she could feel the muscles in her arm begin to strain from the continued movement. She didn't care about the building tension in her muscle, though; her thoughts and eyes were trained on the man in front of her.

The sinewy muscles in his upper legs and lower stomach were clenching delicious, and suddenly, touching wasn't enough for Clarke. She wanted to taste him and feel him in her mouth. She wanted to see him lose complete and total control.

Without thinking, Clarke bent forward until her mouth was inches from Bellamy's throbbing manhood. She could smell the spicy, piquant scent that was all Bellamy, and it made her mouth water in anticipation.

Clarke looked skywards at Bellamy's face. His eyes were still closed in pleasure.

Clarke shut her eyes, slowed her jerking hand, and slowly let her tongue run across the mushroomed head. She nearly moaned from the taste of the salty liquid, but as soon as she had tasted it, it was gone, leaving her frustrated and at a loss.

Clarke's eyes opened wide, as she tried to figure out what had happened. She figured that she must have done something wrong to have made Bellamy jerk away when he felt her moist, warm tongue begin to caress him.

"What did I do?" Clarke felt confused and hurt as he pulled even farther away from her, scooting out of reach.

"If I had let you keep going, we would have had to stop for a little bit." Clarke looked at him blankly.

"I would have blown my load," he clarified crudely, laughing as he watched her flushed cheeks turn nearly crimson in embarrassment. She lowered at him as he continued to chuckle.

Bellamy leaned down and brushed a curl out of her face. The large smirk soon became a gentle smile as he took in her curvy frame.

"Lay back," he whispered. His sweet breath blew on to her face. She nodded in a daze, slowly twisting her legs in front of her and gently dropping back onto the cot. The soft fur cover tickled the nape of her neck and caressed along her back.

He followed her downwards until their bodies lay flush against each other. Clarke's heart thrummed wildly with anticipation. Each breath of air filled her lungs and pushed her chest against his. Clarke bit her lip in result to those small movements. She could feel the small, light brown chest hairs dust across her erect nipples. The feeling caused searing prickles to rush downwards, spreading like wildfire through all of her limbs.

She could also feel his large member so close to her core. It lay like a heavy reminder on her inner thigh, making it impossible to concentrate. _It_ was also part of the reason that she was shocked when she felt Bellamy's fingertips caressing her damp sex.

Clarke's breathe stuttered, and her eyes shot to his. Instead of seeing the all too familiar smirk, there was a look of intense attentiveness.

Bellamy parted her lower lips and used one digit to gentle press inside her. Clarke arched up, pressing more firmly to him, and moaned at the feeling. It felt so goddamn good. The painful ache inside of her slowly eased as he moved faster inside her.

She squirmed against him, moaning wildly.

"Does that feel good, baby?" His rough voice growled at her, begging for a response.

She nodded and tried to grind against his finger. He added another finger.

"Tell me," he harshly demanded.

Clarke nearly rolled her eyes in frustration. She wanted to slap him. Her head was not engaged in having a conversation. She wanted to become enraptured in the sensations, not talk.

She could feel his finger moving inside her. The pleasure of it was incredible.

All of a sudden, Bellamy pulled his hand away from her. Her lower extremities wept with emptiness. Her all-consuming avarice demanded appeasement, but there was nothing she could do. Clarke groaned in disapproval.

With the hand that had been pleasuring her, he grabbed her chin, gently tilting it up. Clarke was taken aback by the scent of her sex on his fingers and the warmth wetness that made his fingers slippery.

"I want you to talk to me, Princess. I know how bossy you are. Tell me what you want." The smile on his face was so cocky and arrogant. She hated that she loved that look.

Clarke's eyes narrowed in irritation.

"I want your fingers inside me."

"Where? Cause I could put them in a couple of different locations," he brazenly declared.

Clarke's mouth dropped down a little in shock as she considered his words before her eyes tightened into slits.

"Bellamy," she chided.

"Tell me," he taunted. He let go of her face. His fingers moved upwards, tapping the bottom of her swollen, pink lips. Clarke's eyes widened as the sweet aroma of her center flooded her senses. Clarke's breathing stopped before picking up again.

Bellamy's lips curled into a slow, lazy half-smirk. There was something predatory in his black eyes as he gazed down at her.

Instead of gently tapping her lips again, he dragged the two moist fingers down her mouth, before leaning in for a passionate kiss that was all tongue, and lips, and teeth.

Clarke groaned as she tasted herself on her tongue. It was saccharine and sweet, and strange. She didn't know if she should be turned on or completely grossed out, but that thought quickly left her as Bellamy continued to ravish her.

During the kiss, she could feel Bellamy's fingers return inside her. He wasn't gentle or hesitant. He was purely and simply fucking her with his hand. Each thrust sent a wild spurt of pleasure through her. She could feel the coil inside her wind tighter and tighter. She wanted to scream. Oh god, did she want to scream, but his mouth swallowed each and every cry.

After a few moments of kissing her, he pulled back and watched her as she squirmed. Her hands had found purchase on his bare shoulders, and her nails were creating grooves in his skin where they had dug inciting a savagery in him that could not be quenched.

"Do you like that, Clarke?" His fingers hesitated for just a moment, causing a sob to escape from her throat. "Answer me!"

"Yes," she called. "Yes, yes, god, yes!" Bellamy slowly resumed moving his fingers.

"Do you want to cum?"

"Yes," she cried, arching against him, and grinding down on his hand.

"You will, beautiful. But not on my hand. I'm going to take my fingers out of you, coat my cock with your juices, and then I'm going to fill you." Clarke wanted to whine at him, complain, scream, cry, but there was something in his voice that made her belly clench. With wide eyes, she watched as he withdrew the fingers that were inside her.

He pulled back and grasped his long, thick shaft in his hands and used her bodily fluids to coat himself.

The breath inside her whooshed out. Her mouth felt drier than a desert as she watched his hand slowly move up and down. Even though she was aching to feel him, there was something incredibly sexy about watching him touch himself. She could see her own liquid covering his thick erection.

"Bel," she whispered reverently.

Bellamy didn't respond to her except for a small wink. She watched as he shuffled forward on his knees until she could feel the warmth of his legs on her inner thighs. One massive hand landed next to her head, making a solid barrier around her. She had never felt more at home, then in that moment, pinned to her bed, hidden away from the world.

He shifted slightly, and then she could feel him rubbing the head of his dick slowly at her entrance. She groaned as she felt the friction against her.

Bellamy stopped moving until her eyes darted towards his eyes.

There was a hushed moment where she could see the love, the adoration, and the tenderness in his eyes, and then she felt him moving.

Her eyes clenched shut, and her body froze at the massive intrusion that was slowly pushing inside her. A sudden moment of fear and anxiety rose up inside her, causing her tenderness towards him to disappear and panic to replace the feeling.

She wasn't ready.

She couldn't do this.

She was scared.

"Babe," Bellamy's voice crooned, breaking her out of pained thoughts. One of his hands was gently rubbing up and down her arm.

Clarke stared up at Bellamy.

"You are getting caught in your head," he muttered. "I'm here with you. I love you."

Clarke nodded her head but didn't relax at all. Her lower muscles were clenched in unnecessary alarm.

"I love you," he repeated, leaning forward until she could feel his breath mix with hers. "I will always take care of you. In every way."

These were words that she had heard before but from Finn. And that scared the shit out of Clarke.

Bellamy is different, she told herself. He loves me, and I love him.

She loved him, and that was something not to be taken lightly. She remembered that Octavia had warned her about Bellamy's heart. He wasn't going to change like Finn, and she loved that about him. She loved him.

"I love you," Clarke whispered. She closed the small distance between their lips.

When he felt her body relaxing against her, he began to move slowly again.

Instead of feeling uncomfortable, Clarke relished in the feeling of being full. Inch after inch, he pushed into her until their bodies were completely aligned: Chest to chest, thigh to thigh.

Clarke had never felt this way before. The prickling heat had turned into a raging fire.

"Clarke?" Bellamy questioned. His voice sounded strained and pained. Clarke knew he was asking permission, but at that point, he didn't need it. She wasn't afraid anymore.

Clarke draped her hands around his neck and pulled him closer. Bellamy understood her silent request and began moving. Slowly he rocked back and forth, creating the most delicious friction she had ever felt.

At first, Clarke lay under him, learning his movements, but soon she couldn't remain passive. She wanted more.

She hitched both of her legs over Bellamy's hips pressing her heels into his muscular buttocks. Bellamy groaned as he felt himself slip further into her wet heat.

She lifted her hips to meet each careful, deep thrust and moaned as she felt him move inside her, filling her to the brim.

"God, god, god, god," she chanted.

"God's not here, Princess," Bellamy chuckled breathlessly in response. His wicked eyes were locked on hers, watching each facial expression.

His panting breath rushed across her face, sending more wanton need into her. She peeled her hands off of his shoulder and ensnared them into his wild, damp locks that framed his handsome face. She tugged harshly on his curls and squeezed her heels down on his ass, hoping he would increase his pace and grant her more.

Bellamy growled in carnal pleasure. She could see the snarl on his face and the deeper need hidden in his eyes, but there was also this need for something else. Something passive.

Clarke felt a spark of anger as she realized that he was restraining himself. He was afraid of her getting hurting her still. He was worried that she wasn't going to stop him if they needed to.

She put her hands on his face and pulled until he couldn't move away from her imploring eyes.

"More," she hissed, thrusting her hips against his. "Fuck me."

Bellamy's eyes narrowed slightly, and a growling noise erupted from his throat as he pulled back once before he began to set a punishing speed.

Clarke felt the euphoria of each deep thrust. It sent her senses into a world wind.

Sight, sound, taste, feeling, and scent guided her in her exploration. She could feel the smoothness of his skin, the course hair from his legs rubbing against her, and the wisps of fur underneath her naked back. The sound of skin meeting skin echoed out in the small tent. Each movement expelled a gasp from her and a deep groan from him. As her mouth latched on to his, she could taste the sweetness of pure honey. His scent surrounded her. It was like being in the forest after a rainstorm. The redolence of freshness, pine, and a hint of spice assaulted her.

She could feel the tension in her belly escalating, driving her forward. She could barely catch her breath.

Bellamy pulled back and buried his face into her neck. A hand dug into her hair, pulling at the long golden strands. He tugged a little harder until her head lolled away, exposing her neck.

"Are you close? Tell. Me. Clarke," he demanded in a low domineering voice. Each word was marked with a deep, unyielding, penetrating thrust.

She shivered wildly at the feeling of his breath against her ear.

"Yes, yes, yes."

Bellamy leaned down and bit her neck, applying a bruising amount of suction with his lips.

The coil inside her was wound so tightly; she could barely stand it. Her blood was boiling; each ribbon of her threaded veins seemed to be lit with an unholy fire. The embers spread molecule to molecule until she couldn't speak or breathe.

She could feel his fingers quickly pass her hip and travel in between them. He pressed against the small bundle of nerves, then began to rub small circles, sending shockwaves and explosions throughout her body.

Her pussy clamped down on his cock, and she screamed her release. Stars burst behind her closed eyelids as she felt him reach completion with her. Her body shook and quivered with the force of her orgasm.

Above her, she was vaguely aware that Bellamy's body was shuddering. Words were pouring out of his mouth, but she couldn't understand them.

And again, she was lost.

Lost in the feeling, lost in Bellamy.

Several minutes had passed before she became aware of her surroundings. She was lying on her side in Bellamy's warm embrace still connected to him.

She could feel Bellamy's light touch ghosting over her back, leaving goosebumps as he rubbed up and down her smooth skin.

When he realized that she was no longer in a daze, he kissed her shoulder lightly before finally getting up. Clarke felt a void as he slid out of her depths, moving away.

She shifted up, groaning slightly from the heaviness of her limbs, and watched him.

"Bellamy?" she softly questioned.

"I'm still here, Princes. I'm just getting water and cleaning up."

"Oh…" she murmured.

"I can hear you thinking from over here, Princess. Just say what you want to say." Clarke rolled her eyes at his gruffness and laid back down.

"Come back first," she bargained. He didn't speak, but she could hear the soft padding of his feet on the ground. She scooted over and tried to ignore the pooling moisture that dripped from between her legs.

"Here, Clarke." She sluggishly reached for his hand and smiled as he held out a cool washrag. She wiped the cooling sweat away from her face and then quickly swiped between her legs. It wasn't the best method, but she appreciated Bellamy's thoughtfulness with her. She dropped the rag next to the bed.

"Move over, baby," he said softly. Clarke responded to his command, and rolled over. She felt the cot move under his heavy weight. Her arm instantly reached for him, touching his chest gently with her fingertips. His limbs wrapped around her and pulled her close. Her head rested on his chest, listening to the gentle thud of his heart. Each breath of air from his expanding and contracting lungs lulled her into a soothing trance.

"Do you want me to move the blanket on us," he asked her after a moment.

"No, too hot right now. This is perfect," she sighed.

It was quiet for a few minutes before Clarke spoke up again.

"That felt good."

Bellamy immediately chuckled at her words. Clarke's head bobbed on his chest.

"As good as that is for my ego, I know you better than that. That's not what you want to say to me."

"No," she said reluctantly, "but it seemed like a good transition." She felt Bellamy's chest rise with a deep sigh before he placed his lips on her still damp forehead.

"Spit it out, Princess."

"It's nothing bad. I just love you. I missed you."

She felt him still for a moment before his lips curled up into a small smirk.

"The feelings mutual,"

Clarke opened her mouth before shutting it.

"Can… Can I ask you something silly, Bel?"

"Sure."

"Can we start thinking about more again?"

"More what?"

"More of us."

Clarke could feel her cheeks burn against his chest. Bellamy leaned back but Clarke refused to look up.

"Princess, are you proposing?" He asked in a scandalized voice.

Clarke leaned back and stared at his face with a mixture of surprise, embarrassment, and contempt. Her cheeks had turned from rosy red to a deep magenta.

"No. God, no. Don't be stupid," she sputtered.

"Oh good. It is far too soon. I don't want to have a ball-and-chain right now. I need options." He smirked his signature grin. She could see the joking twinkle in his dark eyes.

Clarke groaned in exasperation.

"I think I hate you," she spat in annoyance.

"Yeah, yeah. Sure you do."

Clarke ignored him and continued with her question.

"I wanted to know if we were still planning on moving the 100 to the Dropship."

The look of humor faded into a more serious look as he considered her words.

"You still want to move away?"

"Kind of. This place isn't home." Bellamy clearly wanted to say something. She could see the conflict in his dark eyes.

"What is it?"

"Clarke, I don't want us to make a decision right now. This place could be home, Clarke. I'm not saying no, but I think we should consider all the options."

"Why do you want us to stay here?"

"The other place holds a lot of bad memories. How many times did we think we were going to die? How many did die? Our people are traumatized and moving them back might be a big mistake." Bellamy's hand lightly stroked the line of her spine. She could feel her body slowly sinking against him.

"It could be a chance to move on, though."

"Maybe," he said noncommittally. "We don't have to make that choice now. Let's talk more in the morning."

Clarke frowned in response but nodded in agreement. She yawned and snuggled farther against him.

"Night, Princess."

"Night," she whispered back.

She closed her eyes and pressed her head back against his chest. The exhaustion from the day soon slipped into every inch of her body. One moment, she was listening to his soft breaths; the next moment, she was passed out in a dreamless sleep.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I wrote and rewrote a countless amount of times trying to convey all the right emotions. **

**Please, please, please review. I am very curious about what you think. And thank you to all those who have reviewed, favorited, and followed.**


	22. Chapter 22-Isolation

**A/N: Enjoy Everyone!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100. The story is rated M for adult themes and will feature spoilers.**

Promise by Ben Howard

Who am I, darling to you  
Who am I?  
Gonna tell you stories of mine  
Who am I?

Resolutions- Chapter 22- Isolation

Bellamy jerked awake. The covers were tangled around his legs, leaving him trapped and fearful. His arms stretched a few inches to the left, seeking out Clarke. As soon as his hand brushed over her bare, warm outer thigh, he felt like he could breathe again. The air whistled out of his mouth in a deep, heavy sigh.

He raised his head a little and observed Clarke's slim body in the morning light. Sometime during the night, she had managed to throw the covers off her body, exposing her beautiful body.

Bellamy could feel his dick begin to awaken as he followed the curves of her body. Her bare, angular shoulder blades caught his attention. His chocolate brown eyes followed the line of her spine, down towards her full rump. The soft roundness of them sharply contrasted with her dramatically protruding hipbones.

Her skin seemed to shimmer and glow in the rays of light. He could barely make out the two dark moles that were placed on her lower back.

He smiled and relaxed back into the hard mattress.

Bellamy couldn't hear the camp waking up. The usual voices were absent, but he knew it wouldn't be long until the voices began to drift through the fabric of the tent. Bellamy wanted to stay in bed, but he knew that with the arrival of the 100, he would have a list of things to do.

Bellamy leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Clarke's shoulder right in between the nape of her neck and the curve of her shoulder blade.

He slowly slid out of the bed, placing the mud brown pelt blanket over her skin. She stirred under the feeling of the soft fur draping over her skin. She scrunched her nose up a little, stretched her thin arms out, before settling back in.

Bellamy walked over towards his pile of clothes. He began to get dress, quickly pulling on his shirt, boxers, and pants. He bent down and quickly stretched the worn material of his socks over his feet. His shoes came next. He slid them over his socks and laced up the worn strings.

As he stood up, he looked over at his princess. She was sleeping heavily. Usually, she twitched in her sleep, shifting back and forth as if searching for something. Now, her limbs seemed to be weighed down, trapping her in a fitful sleep. The corners of her soft, pouty lips were turned up in a slight smile.

Bellamy couldn't help, but feel proud; as if he was the one who had made her smile that secretive smile.

He crept back towards her and leaned over her body, pressing his lips gently against hers before shifting back onto the balls of his feet and moving away again. Without pause, he left her, exiting out of the tent into the crisp morning air.

Bellamy blinked a little in surprise as his eyes drifted up towards the sky. He had slept in longer than he had originally anticipated. If he had to guess, it was around nine o'clock. He blinked again and looked around the courtyard. It was surprisingly quiet for the time.

Bellamy's shoulders straightened instinctively. This wasn't right. For a moment, he was tempted to run back into the tent and wake Clarke.

The only thing that stopped him from wrenching that tent flap apart were the two girls that walked into his peripheral vision. His head whipped in the direction of the girls. They clung to each other giggling and talking faster and quieter than his ears could hear.

They both froze as they noticed him. Bellamy finally recognized the two teenagers as Monroe and Harper. He watched as Harper whispered something in Monroe's ear. Bellamy had almost forgotten how close the two were before the Grounder battle at the Dropship.

Even now he could see their eyes scan over his body with matching twin laser beams. They shared a swift glance between each other before their mouths tilted upwards into two matching smirks.

Bellamy shifted uncomfortably as they silently watched him. He sent a small wave towards the two young women and began to head over to them.

"Hi Bellamy," Monroe said in her level, quiet voice. Bellamy's eyes narrowed a little in confusion as the smirk grew more prominent on her face.

"Monroe, Harper, how are you today?"

Monroe shrugged silently and just continued to watch him. Bellamy was beginning to feel completely at a loss under their gazes. He rubbed the back of his neck trying to sooth away the uncomfortable prickling on his neck.

A snorting giggle broke the silence as Harper leaned more heavily on Monroe. She slapped her hand over her mouth, but the snickers continued to escape her mouth.

"Harper, you seem to be doing well." Bellamy frowned even though he was glad to see her up and moving.

"Not as well as you, apparently," she snickered.

Bellamy froze and stared at Harper in confusion until his confusion melted away into a dawning awareness.

"What did you hear?" He blurted.

Harper's giggle turned into a deep belly laugh. Her pale skin seemed to stretch uncomfortably over her hollowed cheekbones as if smiling any wider would cause the skin to crack and peel away. Her cheeks were slowly turning pink as she fought for breath.

Monroe, always the steadfast and dependable soldier, was beginning to break under her friend's silly antics. Her mouth slowly turned from a smirk into a thin-lipped grin and continued until it expanded across her face in a broad, toothy, beaming smile.

"What didn't we hear, Bellamy? There is a reason this side of the camp is practically barren after last night."

Bellamy was never one to be embarrassed about his sexual experiences. He never cared about people knowing, and if he was being completely honest, didn't give two shits if people knew about Clarke and him. That being said, he did care about Clarke finding out. She would be mortified beyond belief.

"Who knows?" He asked quickly.

Monroe's smile was slightly smaller as she responded back with another shrug of her shoulders.

"I'm not sure. The guards were talking about some strange noises last night. Said that someone was having a good evening. The tents around you were pretty empty last night because the people coming from Mount Weather were being reassigned tent structures and then spent the night at the campfire celebrating. I guess you were kind of lucky there, but since Clarke's tent was the only one occupied last night it was pretty easy to figure out what happened."

Bellamy's frown deepened as she said that.

Harper spoke up quickly.

"And don't think that any of the 100 missed how you greeted Clarke on the field yesterday. Ha," she laughed. "You looked like you were going to rip her clothes off right there."

Bellamy's frown turned into a menacing glower as he turned his gaze towards Harper. Instead of inciting fear and intimidating her, it caused the smile to grow again.

"Don't you guys have better things to do?" He questioned with an eye roll.

"No," they chirped back in unison.

"Well, I do. Don't mention any of this to Clarke." He gave them each a glare. "I mean it. And spread that around. She doesn't need anyone harassing her about this."

"Whatever you say, Bellamy," Harper said teasingly.

Bellamy huffed, and took off, purposefully ignoring the chuckles that followed him. He strode across the yard and entered into part of the fallen Ark. He could feel his stomach protesting, grumbling and quivering in search of something to eat. He headed over towards the diner area.

As soon as he entered, he could see the effects of the having the 100 back.

It was louder. Much louder.

Voices boomed across the room as the surviving members darted back and forth between tables. Laughter flowed across the room in raucous, ear-splitting explosions.

A few adults watched the teenagers with a look of annoyance and disdain. Bellamy noticed many of the elder guards sending the disapproving glares and whispering quietly towards each other.

Bellamy bit his cheek and tried to stifle his irritation. He could see what their looks meant, knew that they considered the teenagers to be nuisances, immature bugs buzzing around their faces, leaving a sour taste in their mouths.

They saw the teenagers as being inferior, and something about that idea just drove Bellamy nuts.

He could feel his legs stiffen and his chest puff out as he strolled into the room.

As soon as the teenagers saw him enter the room, a hush of respect fell over the group. They stopped talking and instantly took note of their leader.

Bellamy's eyes drifted over the crowd, eyeing the group of adolescents that he had led through the chaos of this world. They were in clean clothes with freshly scrubbed faces. Overall, they looked well fed and seemed happy to be at the camp.

Bellamy's stern face slid off his face. He gave the group an approving nod. It took that small acknowledgment for the smiles to spread across their faces. Soon, he was surrounded.

Everyone was asking questions, telling him how glad they were to see him, clapping him on the back, and wishing him well. Bellamy gave them a few minutes before his stomach cried out its displeasure. He excused himself and walked over towards the buffet line where a man was dishing out something warm and gooey.

Bellamy said a quick thanks as he was passed a plate and quietly walked towards an empty table. He sat down, letting his bowl slip out of his hand and clatter onto the gray, beaten up table.

He hunched over and looked at the bowl suspiciously. He poked the mysterious looking material with his spoon.

"It's porridge. We traded with the Trikru this morning."

Bellamy looked upwards in alarm, letting his eyes slid over the petite woman that stood in front of him.

"Chancellor Griffin," he murmured in greeting.

"Bellamy," she replied back. "Do you mind if I join you?"

Bellamy flinched a little under her piercing gaze, but shook his head no and gestured towards the seat in front of him. He flinched again as her chair scraped the floor in front of him.

"How are you?" She asked him, breaking up the silence.

Bellamy eyed her before looking down. The last time they had spoken, he was furious over her decision.

"Great," he answered shortly.

There was a moment where he could just feel Abby's eyes peering at him. He ignored her and brought the thick, gluey mixture towards his lips.

As soon as the food touched his lips, his face scrunched up in disgust.

Abby chuckled at her reaction. Bellamy glowered at her.

"They eat it with fruit and sugar cane. It makes it much sweeter."

"They would have to. It's like sawdust. It's damn near inedible by its' self," Bellamy spat in disgust. Abby sat quietly beside him as he took a few more bites.

"Chancellor, can I ask why you are over here? Not that I mind, but I can only assume that with the 100 back, there are a million things that you can do with your time- and most of those things are better than sitting here in silence with me."

Bellamy shouldn't have opened his mouth. He should have sat quietly and waited for the question that was stirring around in her mind to spill out of her mouth, but he couldn't. The way she watched him, made the porridge mixture feel like concrete as it slid down his esophagus and sit in the bottom of his stomach like a heavy.

"My daughter is lying to me."

Bellamy frowned. "What about?" he questioned. His spoon had paused its descent into his bowl.

"About Mount Weather. About why she left. About what happened to her."

Bellamy blew out a breath that he had been holding.

"My daughter trusts you. I have a feeling that you are the one person in this camp, besides Clarke, that knows exactly what led up to her leaving without a word. I need to know why she did it."

Bellamy abandoned his spoon into his bowl and dropped his hand onto the table.

"What did she tell you?"

"That she wanted to prevent unnecessary bloodshed." Abby's voice was small and soft. Each syllable pleaded with Bellamy.

"She's told you the truth then. She didn't want to start a war."

"There's more," Abby demanded. Her hands were clenched fists on top of the table. He could see the top of each knuckle turning a pale cream color as the blood was forced away from her skin.

"Chancellor, I will always protect Clarke." Abby leaned back a little as she stared at Bellamy.

"I know that you care about her-,"

"I love her," interjected Bellamy. His voice was low, and there was a small smile appearing on his lips.

"I love, Clarke," he repeated. "I will always protect her and put her before myself. That's why I can honestly tell you that if there were more- something that would endanger Clarke- I would be the first one standing in front of you, telling you exactly what you need to hear. There is nothing more that I can tell you- nothing more that you need to know."

Abby considered his words with a look of contemplation. Bellamy finished his food while she thought.

After a few minutes, she said, "You swear?"

"Do you want me to do a secret handshake to prove it?" He asked sarcastically.

Abby shot him a look.

"That won't be necessary," she said, sharply. He could see the hint of a smile on her face. Her eyes glittered a little more brightly. At that moment, Bellamy could see the parts of Abby that were passed on to Clarke.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" He asked her. He was ready to leave. His bowl was in one hand. The other hand was gripping the table, ready to push the rest of his body off of the stool.

"There is actually," Abby said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a shot full of liquid. Bellamy looked at the syringe with a look of wariness. "Clarke needs this."

Bellamy's expression turned from wariness to a look of concern.

"Why does she need that?"

"This shot prevents pregnancies. It isn't a permanent solution, but it will make sure that she doesn't get pregnant and will continue to be protected for the next few months."

Bellamy blanched. The blood in his head rushed down into his cheeks, leaving him lightheaded.

"Wh…What," he stuttered. His mouth was gaping open, and his cheeks burned with embarrassment, shock, and shame. This was not a conversation that he ever expected to have with Abigail Griffin, councilwoman on the Ark, Chancellor of the Sky People, and mother of the Princess.

"The guards talk. A lot. I want to have this conversation with you as much as you do, but it needs to be done. Give Clarke the shot. She needs to inject it into her hip."

"I thought the girls had birth control devices-"

"When the teenagers landed on Earth, we had placed a countdown on the devices so that the older girls would be able to have children in case the Ark wasn't able to make it. We had to keep civilization going. Clarke's device would have run out of time about three weeks ago. She needs the shot to stay safe."

Bellamy nodded his head, refusing to look Clarke's mom in the eye. He quickly grabbed the syringe and pocketed it.

"It really isn't a big deal, Bellamy. Clarke's eighteen. She can make her decisions. And I am glad that she has made that choice with someone that she loves. If we were still on the Ark, things might have ended up very different. I regret to think that she might have ended up with someone that wouldn't have ever loved her the way that you do."

Abby's statement finally caught Bellamy's attention.

"What do you mean?"

"Clarke's father and I had made the decision with Thelonious Jaha that Clarke and Wells would get married before we made the descent to Earth. It made a lot of sense at the time. Clarke was so alone growing up as a child. She was the daughter of not one, but two members of the council. She was ridiculed and isolated from the other children in her class."

Bellamy had a picture of a little girl with crystal clear, pale skin and golden ringlets sitting by herself in a classroom. He could almost see the way her eyes turned a sparkling sapphire because of the tears welling inside them as her classmates whispered and mocked her.

Bellamy's heart hurt as he realized how much shit his girl had gone through growing up.

"Wells also knew what it was like. If anything, he was treated worse than Clarke. Thelonious was often seen as the enemy. He had to be harsh and sentenced a lot of good people to die."

"My mom included," Bellamy interrupted. His voice was rough and filled with anger.

"Yes," Abby agreed, nodding her head. "Including Aurora. At the time, we thought we had no choice, and people suffered. Wells and Clarke ended up suffering because of our choices too. They were bullied in their classrooms, treated like lepers, and felt like it was their fault that everyone hated them. Clarke came home in tears with bruises and cuts on her face so many times that I lost count." She paused and swallowed back the rising lump in her throat. Bellamy waited quietly as she collected her thoughts.

Swallowing hard, she whispered, "That's why Jake and I were so happy that she found someone else that understood her loneliness as well as Wells did. They seemed perfectly suited. Wells even managed to convince himself that he loved her."

"You didn't think he loved her?"

"Not the way she deserved. I think he fabricated his love for her because he wanted to be with someone and because we expected them to end up together. Clarke deserves someone who would rush to her side. Someone who would support her when everything is hopeless. She needs someone who is strong enough to help her, but understands that she can make her own decisions."

Bellamy could see that she was having a hard time keeping it together. He leaned across the table and gently covered her clasped hands. She looked up with warm brown eyes. They weren't her daughter's eyes, but there was an honesty that shined through them that Bellamy knew were similar to Clarke's aquamarine eyes.

"I asked Raven about you when you and Clarke left to meet with the Grounder village. I told you that I didn't understand my daughter's relationship with you. You said that you didn't care about her, but that was a lie. A bad one. Raven filled me in on all the information."

Bellamy's heart stuttered as he felt the shame inside him well up. He was not a good person. His past was tricky and messy, and he had made plenty of sloppy mistakes because of his ego. Clarke was the only reason that he had become a better person.

"All the details?" he asked, instantly regretting his question.

"Parts. She told me that you and Clarke hated each other- that Clarke continuously challenged your decisions and that you hated her because of it."

"We definitely got under each other's skin." Bellamy smiled at some of the memories of his brave princess challenging him.

"She told me that despite your ire toward her and her irritation towards you, you both decided to work together. She said that your oppositional personalities were the key to surviving on the planet. What's more important than any of that, though, is that Raven told me that Clarke wants you. She wasn't forced. No one made her choice you. She actually made the decision to be with you. If my husband were here, he would be thanking you and then would probably float you for getting near his little girl."

Abby laughed a little, but there was a heartbreaking tone in her small, delicate chuckle.

"When we last talked after Clarke disappeared, I knew you loved her that much. You didn't say it, but only someone who loves another person would rush out to save them. You didn't care if you got hurt. You just wanted her back. Please stay that way with Clarke. On the Ark, I felt like I had to sacrifice Jake and Clarke to save the rest of civilization. On Earth, you and Clarke can be selfish. I hope that you won't ever throw that freedom away."

Bellamy squeezed her hand, waiting for her eyes to raise to his. When she finally did, he released her hand and pulled it back to his side.

"I already told you. She comes first. She will always come first."

Abby smiled a rueful smile, and nodded.

Bellamy pretended not to notice that when she had finally risen to leave and had turned to walk away, she had swiped at her face, knocking tears away from her eyes. He watched as she straightened her shoulder and walked away with a stiff walk.

Still feeling a little stunned by the conversation, Bellamy took a moment to collect his thoughts before he stood up and dropped his bowl into a bin filled with other dirty dishes.

Feeling the heavy weight of the needle in his pocket, Bellamy left the cafeteria and made his way back towards the tent where he hoped Clarke was sleeping.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed. Please review!**


	23. Chapter 23-Whispered Path

**A/N: Enjoy Everyone!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100. The story is rated M for adult themes and will feature spoilers.**

Kiss me by Sixpence None the Richer

Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight  
Lead me out on the moonlight floor  
Lift your open hand  
Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance  
Silver moon's sparkling  
So kiss me

Resolutions- Chapter 23- Whispered Path

Clarke could feel the strain in her muscles. Each movement pulled and tore at her aching ligaments and joints.

She groaned again as she felt her cot shift under the weight of someone's body.

"Aw, is the poor Princess tired?" Clarke's mouth twisted into a snarl as she felt someone poke her side. She flinched away from his fingers causing her muscles to twinge again.

"Fuck off, Bellamy," she said with as much venom as she could muster.

"Yeesh, why so angry, babe?" Clarke growled as she heard the snickers in the small enclosed space.

"Look at me, Bel. Do I really need to explain?"

"Rough day?"

"Does it look like anything other than a rough day? I've been working all day with the 100 to cut wood so that we can build more huts."

"How's it going?" Clarke lifted her head off of the bed, glaring daggers.

"Slow. Very, very slow." Clarke sighed and buried her head back into the blanket. "I felt like we got more done during the day when we lived at the Dropship. We can't get anything done with all the supervision here

Her voice was muffled as it bled through the fur blanket and reached his ears.

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said. Two guards stood over us, monitoring us. They weren't watching the woods. They weren't protecting us. They were making sure that the idiotic children didn't hurt themselves. They kept interrupting us while we worked."

Clarke could feel her hands throb along with the painful throbbing in her head. The building tempo of pain made her stomach twist painfully.

Bellamy hummed in response.

After a moment, Clarke lifted her head again.

"Bell?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah?"

"This sucks."

Bellamy's soft chuckle echoed out in the tent. She felt the cot dip again, as he leaned closer pressing a delicate kiss to the base of her neck.

Clarke groaned happily as she felt the static tingle begin where his lips pressed against her skin.

"Can I help you relax, Princess?" Clarke's breath became a little shorter as she felt his hands wander to her shoulders. His thumb pressed into her skin causing, a pained gasp to leave her lips. She could feel his fingers dipping into a thick knot of muscle. The gentle, but firm, swirling of his fingers felt so painful but so good.

"Just settle down and let me help."

She felt, rather than saw, his body move until he was hovering near her. He kneeled next to her; His knees just barely brushed her right leg.

Bellamy's hands made quick work of the tension in her back. Each finger of his hands sought out the painful spots in her neck and upper and lower back. As soon as he discovered a problem, he would delicately squeeze the muscle and dig into that spot. With each pass of his hands, she became more and more jelly-like, sinking into the mattress, and going limp underneath his careful eye.

Her eyes were growing heavier, but she really wanted to return the favor and thank him. She carefully reached behind her back, grabbing his hand, and pulling it towards her mouth. She brought his hand to her lips and placed the smallest of kisses onto the back of his hand. She turned slightly so that she was no longer laying on her stomach but her side.

Clarke placed another kiss on his hand, reveling in the weight of it.

God, did she love his hands. She loved the feeling, the shape, the size, the sheer force of his hands as she cupped them near her parted lips. There was something to be said about his hands. They weren't just a tool to help him or a body part- they were an extension of his entire being.

The dusky skin, tanned by the sun and by his genetic predisposition, made her think of the bark of a tree- warm, russet, and strong. Each line, vein, and pathway on his forearm and hand created a story that made the connection from his body to her mouth even more important.

The back of his hand was smooth with a light dusting of hair, but as she turned his hand over, tracing the thick ridges of his palm, she could feel the calluses that had hardened under constant wear and tear. Those calluses told her another story. Clarke pressed her lips to each tough patch of skin, before following his palm down to each and every fingertip. His fingers twitched a little as she pressed a kiss and then slightly placed the tip of his finger in her mouth. She could hear the inhalation of his breath as she swirled her tongue against the pad of his fingertip, sucking just a little on the digit.

She pulled back and examined his expression, hoping and praying that he felt the same and wanted her as much as she wanted him.

Bellamy's eyes were half drawn down. His pupil had blown up so much that they covered the expanse of his iris, turning his vision dark with lust.

Clarke held onto his hand and moved down to pull the tip of his thumb into her mouth. She slowly sunk down on his thumb until the entire thing was inside her mouth. She suctioned her mouth again and pulled back, allowing him to feel the tightness and wetness of her mouth.

Bellamy's other hand reached out and cupped the back of her neck. He trailed his fingers down her neck, towards her cheek before he tried to withdraw both hands.

"Baby, we can't continue this now. Not after yesterday."

Clarke flinched at his words before she shut her eyes and considered his words.

She felt the irritation blooming in her gut as he pulled farther and farther away from her. She wanted to stop him but realized that Bellamy was thinking ahead. He was considering her feelings and need for privacy.

After yesterday's interaction with Bellamy and then her mom as she tried to tell her off for butting into her business, Clarke was feeling a bit sensitive.

She technically should have known better. Her tent wasn't a densely walled room that could contain noises. It was flimsy at best, only sheltering Bellamy and her from the rain and spying eyes. Unfortunately, anyone passing by the tent would hear them.

Again, she should have known, but she didn't think about it at the moment. There was no way that she was going to allow a repeat of yesterday. There is nothing fun about knowing that the entire camp, including her mother, knew about her budding sex life.

As soon as Bellamy had shown her the small needle and told her why she needed it, she had gone into a full-blown, self-deprecating meltdown. And after approaching Abby, jamming the needle into her hip, and having to leave the med bay feeling more than a little embarrassed, she had to face the truth that all the teenagers that she led knew about her and Bellamy.

She kept trying to tell herself that it was not a big deal, that no one cared, but they did. After leaving the med bay, she had skipped getting something to eat and immediately gone to help the 100.

Someone had to organize the teenagers, right?

Wrong.

Her appearance had instantly caused chaos. Instead of inspiring the teenagers into working harder, the sight of her had clearly distracted the 100.

Her face still burned at the thought of them laughing. Clarke was only glad that Bellamy had warned her beforehand, or she would have probably taken off in the opposite direction. Instead, she straightened her shoulders and schooled her facial expression into taking a hard edge. Her eyes were like crystals or blue ice as she glared at the 100 and demanded that they get back to their tasks.

She was amazed that it actually worked. Quickly, the groups separated, and she began to take over organizing the materials and distributing people into certain tasks.

"Clarke?"

Clarke's wandering mind focused on his soft, deep voice trailing near her ear.

"Yeah?"

"We could leave the camp for a little while," Bellamy's voice trailed off.

Clarke's eyes snapped open and settled on his face. She could see the look of wickedness on his face. His eyes glinted brighter, and his smile had a devilish twist to it.

"What?"

"You heard me." Clarke's mouth turned up a little at the huge, leering smirk on his face.

"Where to?"

"There is a stream near here that is safe. No offense babe, but you are coated in dirt and need to wash up."

Clarke's eyebrows rose a little.

"You're one to talk."

"Precisely the reason that I am going with you. We both need a bath."

"It isn't safe for us to leave the camp, Bel."

"We will go down to the stream. I have been there before, and the Grounders recommended it because it is safe. No sea monsters."

"We still can't do it."

"Clarke, babe. For once, we don't have to worry. We don't need guards or patrols with us. Let's take advantage of the fact that we are finally safe. It's just a bath." Clarke nearly laughed out loud as she watched his dark eyebrows wiggle up and down in a mischievous way.

"Fine," she said reluctantly. Bellamy placed his hand on her hip and gave it a little squeeze.

"You won't regret this." Clarke rolled her eyes, but followed him off the bed, slowly slipping her shoes back on.

"Are we going to go through the front gate?" Clarke said as she followed Bellamy.

"No, we can't." He said with a frown. "I didn't tell you, but today I was working with Bryne. Ever since the 100 arrived, she has been trying to intimidate all of the guards and soldiers. She is trying to keep everyone contained and under her thumb."

"You sound worried."

Bellamy glanced sideways at Clarke.

"I am."

"Have you said anything to my mom?"

"Not yet. There is so much preparation going on with the upcoming surgeries. I haven't really seen her outside the Med Bay. I don't even know what I would tell her. I have no proof. I just have a feeling that something is going. I'm just not sure what that something is."

Clarke stopped in her tracks, and grabbed at Bellamy's arm, forcing him to stop too.

"Bel, if that's the case then we can't leave. Not even for a little bit. We need to talk to my mom now."

"Clarke, calm down. Nothing is happening right this moment. Bryne doesn't have the manpower and too many people support Abby. No one likes Bryne. I have Miller keeping an eye on everything. We even worked it out so that we are on opposite shifts."

He placed both of his hands on her shoulders and waited until she met his eyes.

"I promise, Clarke. The 100 just got back. You can spend a couple of minutes relaxing." He pulled her a little closer and dropped his head down a little, making sure she understood. When he saw her nod her head in agreement. He smiled and grabbed her hand. He tugged a little until she was following him to the spot that she escaped to get the 100.

"Clarke, is this where you said the fence wasn't working?" He had stopped in front of a section of the wall. Clarke shook her head.

"No. It's a few feet down." Clarke pulled her hand away and walked down the fence. She stopped, scooped up a stick, and tossed it at the wire railing. It fell away unharmed.

Clarke ducked through the wire and waited until he did the same.

"So," she trailed. "Which way are we heading?"

"Just follow me," he said with a wink.

After a few minutes of silence, Clarke spoke up.

"You know, it's actually really nice being out here. Without the threat of war or death, I can start imagining our future better."

"While you were gone, I left the camp a lot."

"Where did you go?"

"It depended. Sometimes I hunted or explored. I went to the Dropship a few times, but the memories were too hard for me. I couldn't handle it." Bellamy frowned and avoided eye contact.

"I'm still really sorr-," Clarke started.

"Don't," Bellamy interrupted. "We moved past it."

Bellamy reached for her hand. His fingers locked with hers. Clarke gave him a small smile.

"What else did you do?"

"I spent a day out here by myself. I didn't go back until I was dragged back. Kane nearly lost it."

"I bet you enjoyed that."

"Of course. If I go soft, I might lose my title as the Rebel King," he teased. Clarke's grin stretched across her face. She tugged on his hand, forcing him to stop and face her.

Bellamy looked at her with a look of concern.

"What's wrong," he questioned.

Clarke took a few step closer until she could feel the heat from his body. Still holding his one hand, she gazed up at his face.

"Nothing's wrong. I'm just feeling very lucky right now."

Bellamy's concerned look slipped away, and an almost bashful look took over. Clarke was surprised over the reaction. The handsome man in front of her didn't look like a boy; he had too many muscles and was tall and developed, but he didn't resemble the harsh, thoughtless man that she had to work with when the 100 first crash-landed on the planet. There was a happiness and innocence that seemed to radiate off his face that stunned her.

"So you aren't regretting giving me a chance?"

Clarke had a moment of realization as she gazed at Bellamy.

They had changed. No longer was she Clarke, the Ice Princess, nor was she the Spoiled Ark Princess or the Brave Princess. She had lost all of that- she let it slip into the past and had grown into someone different.

The same could be said for Bellamy. He was sweeter and softer than she could have ever imagined. This wasn't the man that protected Octavia or led the 100. He was giving her something that he kept hidden from others. He was trusting her.

Never would she have imagined Bellamy looking at her like that. The vulnerability and longing in his eyes caused a wave of emotion to crest in her body and surge forward.

Clarke's hand twisted into his t-shirt. She bit down on her lip and stared into his eyes before responding to his question.

"Not one bit."

Bellamy closed the gap between their lips, sweetly pressing against hers. Clarke could feel that kiss travel through every part of her body.

Too soon, he ended the kiss and pulled back. His warm forehead pressed against hers. His sweet breath rushed over her face.

"I love you," he breathed.

Clarke felt the rush of blood in cheeks.

"I love you too."

* * *

**A/N: So…going through season 3, I needed a break with angst. Sorry/not sorry that this is mostly fluff for the sake of fluff with little plot. Needed to indulge in my own Bellarke considering the show is giving me a freaking heart attack. Hope you enjoyed all the sugary sweetness.**

**Please review with whatever thoughts you had. Loving the feedback!**


	24. Chapter 24-Delirium

**A/N: Enjoy Everyone!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100. The story is rated M for adult themes and will feature spoilers.**

Sex on Fire by Kings of Leon

You, your sex is on fire  
Consumed, we're the ones,  
what's to transpire

Hot as a fever  
Rattle of bones  
I could just taste it  
taste it

Resolutions- Chapter 24- Delirium

Clarke gasped as she felt the water lick at her bare toes on the edge of the sandy bay.

"It's hot," she exclaimed, taking a step farther into the water. She looked behind her, noticing that Bellamy's eyes were trained on her.

"You like it?"

"I love it. You said this was supposed to be a stream. This is a lake," she said accusingly. Bellamy smirked at her and held up his hands.

"I don't think you would have come if I had said, 'Hey, Clarke. Come see this lake." His voice lowered an octave as he mocked her.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me sooner."

"I was a little busy," he leered, a salacious smirk spreading across his face as his eyes swooped over her covered body.

Even though she rolled her eyes at him, on the inside she felt amazingly beautiful and wanted. He had seen her body- he had been inside her- but the fact that seeing her mostly clothed and covered in dirt, still wanting her, made her feel every bit of the Princess that he called her.

Clarke stepped out of the water and towards him. When she was less than a foot away, she leaned up and pressed her lips against his cheek.

"Are you going to join me?" She asked softly.

Bellamy's responding chuckle caused her stomach to clench in anticipation. She bit down hard on her lip as she watched his hands grasp the edge of his shirt, pulling it over his head.

Not one to be outdone, Clarke trailed her hands over her stomach, playing with the frayed, tattered edges of the threadbare shirt. She pulled the shirt up over her abdomen a little, exposing her navel before turning around and stepping away from him.

She slowly started to slide her clothes off of her body, piece by piece, dropping each article of clothing onto the sandy ground. Instead of looking where she wanted to, she faced forward and watched the steam roll away from the water. The gentle breeze carried the puffs of liquid smoke towards her, dispersing against her skin.

Clarke could feel the steam coat her skin as she shed the last garment to the floor. She shivered a little as a stronger gust of wind swirled around her bare figure, coasting against her face and body. Her nipples hardened under the cold caress. Despite everything, she could feel the temperature in her body rising. Her cheeks were flush with color, and her chest rose quickly.

There was something about standing outside, completely naked, that seemed incredibly forbidden. It was the vulnerable position she was in. She was completely exposed- exposed to the elements and exposed to Bellamy.

She cocked her head a little as she listened to the rustling of clothes behind her. She took a step and felt the rough particles of sand rub against the pads of her feet. She didn't hesitate to step into the water and continued forward until it sloshed against her ankles, then as she continued farther into the water, her calves, knees, thighs, and then finally her rounded hips.

Clarke sighed at the feeling of the water. It was hot enough that it made her suck in a little breath as she first got used to the water. Clarke's hands drifted up into her hair. She pulled on the small string tie that kept her unkempt hair out of her face until it loosened and fell away in her hand.

The strands swung forward until they brushed against her shoulders. She swept her hand through the golden curls, separating the tangled strands with her small fingers and then quickly tied the string around her wrist.

"The steam is making your hair curlier." Bellamy's voice was loud in the quiet swell of the forest. Clarke barely stopped herself from jumping. Her heart raced in her chest as she turned towards Bellamy.

Clarke's mouth gaped a little as her eyes settled on Bellamy's form. He was bare-chested, beautiful, and looked like some perfect creature. He stood a few feet to her left. The water that settled high over her waist was barely covering the apex of his legs. She could see glinting, dewy drops on the ridges of his abs and watched as they dripped down the thick lines of his abdominal muscles that led down towards his manhood.

Bellamy smirked as he noticed the dark look of lust in her eyes.

"Careful, Princess," he warned in his deliciously low voice. "Don't start something you don't want to finish."

Clarke's eyes darted to his face.

"Who said I didn't want to finish? Isn't starting something the whole point of us coming out here where there are no nosy guards and overprotective mothers?" Clarke laughed slightly and stepped forward brazenly.

She gathered her hair in one hand before throwing it behind her shoulders, exposing the soft skin of her shoulders and uncovering her large breasts. The one hand slowly lowered down her neck and softly caressed the tops of her breasts, trailing over the stiff peaks. She softly tweaked them with her thumb and groaned as she felt the small bolt of electricity follow a path from her breasts, down her stomach, and stopping at her aching center.

Bellamy's eyes turned the sexiest shade of dark brown as he leered at her body. His mouth was slightly gaping, and his harsh breaths could be heard in the nearly silent forest.

"That's so fucking hot," Bellamy rasped. Clarke couldn't help but throw back her head and release a throaty laugh at the statement.

"It would be better if you were willing to help me." Her voice lingered in the space between them like a dare.

Bellamy looked slightly conflicted as he said, "I like watching you touch yourself. It's sexy seeing you give yourself pleasure." Clarke's fingers continued to trail over her chest, sighing as her fingers caused the ache inside her to intensify.

"Your hands are much more pleasurable," Clarke argued. Bellamy laughed and muttered a half-hearted, teasing insult under his breath over her bossy attitude.

Finally, he acquiesced and took a step deeper into the water offering his hand to her. Clarke grasped his hand and followed him as he led her further into the spring.

Twenty feet away from the shore, the water began to rise above her waist and then her stomach as they continued into the middle of the spring. Clarke wasn't sure where he was bringing her but kept quiet as he slowly drug her through the calm water. She only spoke up when the water had slipped over her shoulders.

"How much deeper?" She asked, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. She could swim, but not very well and as the water slowly engulfed her, she was beginning to let the terror inside her shine through. Her chest felt a little tighter, and the once beautiful lake now seemed like a sink hole that was threatening to swallow her whole.

"It is just on the other side of those branches." Clarke balked as she noticed which branches he was talking about. Five large, leafy trees grew in a cluster on a small ledge above the water. The trees' thick, rigid branches were extended over the shiny surface of the lake, reaching towards the opposite bank.

They were at least fifty feet away, maybe even seventy.

"Bel-"

"It's okay, Princess. I've got you."

Clarke ignored the fuzzy feeling in her stomach as he led her deeper. Her toes could barely brush the sandy bottom. Clarke clung to his hand and kicked her legs to keep her head above the water.

Clarke gave up on keeping an eye on where they were going after her head submerged underwater two times. She sealed her eyes shut and just squeezed his hand hard.

She opened them a minute or two later when he stopped suddenly. She used the pads of her fingers to wipe the water from her eyes and push her hair back off of her face.

When she opened her eyes again, Bellamy had turned around and was facing her. Clarke's eyes quickly scanned the area around them.

"It's a cave?" The incredulity leaking through her voice couldn't be ignored.

"Not exactly. A stream ran into this part of the spring. The cliff eroded over time, leaving this space behind. It must have dried out a long time ago, though."

Clarke was speechless as she gazed around the enclave.

Clarke's eyes were mesmerized by the space around her. It was surprisingly private. The river hadn't just cut out a small section of the wall. It had formed a U-shaped structure that rose ten feet over her head and about 10 feet across. The gray rocks were smooth and sleek, worn by age and time. Overhead, large branches formed a roof over her head. The gentle lapping of water on the wall would have been relaxing if she wasn't naked and holding hands with an equal bare Bellamy.

"So this is what you wanted to show me?" Clarke bit down on her bottom lip and cocked her head in a coy manner.

Bellamy laughed and shook his head. He pulled on her hand hard until she had glided through the water and was pushed against his chest. She gasped a little as she felt his cock, hard and rigid, against her thigh.

"No. This is what I was going to show you." He smiled wickedly at her and caught her mouth in a short, but passionate kiss. Her cheeks turned flame red, and when he pulled back, she felt as if he had vacuumed the air out of her body.

"Showing me requires a visual aid. I can't really see what you're talking about," Clarke said in a breathy voice. She threaded her hands into his hair. Because he was so much taller than she was, the strands of his hair were still dry and felt like silk as it slid through her fingers.

"Do you want me to rectify that?" He asked pressing closer to her.

"I want you to rectify something," she said. The sly look in her eyes and the twitching of her lip caused Bellamy to shake his head ruefully.

"Sounds like you really want me to get my hands dirty to solve your problem," he said. Bellamy slid his hands down her back, allowing his fingers to dig into her hips. He softly kneaded the flesh there.

"Well, thank God we are in a place where we can get cleaned up afterward." Bellamy laughed quietly.

"I guess we are."

There was a moment of silence as they stared at each other. Clarke could feel the tingling in her body, and the throbbing in her core as Bellamy's eyes locked on hers. In a single moment, Clarke could sense how that one look of lust and power and restraint made her feel like the sexiest woman in the world.

In that one single instance, she felt like she was teetering on the edge of something overwhelming.

When they lunged at each other and lips met lips, she felt the world explode into heat. Suddenly, she was pinned against his body, trapped against him and trapped in a mirage of sensations. Her blood was boiling. Her heart was pounding as fast as a hummingbird's wings.

It felt like the sky was opening into a lightning storm of energy and friction.

Each caress of his lips, tongue, and hands brought her a pleasant sense of agony. There wasn't a single part of her body that didn't fell untouched.

Clarke groaned into his mouth as his teeth caught her bottom lip and roughly tugged at it.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she could feel her body get dragged through the water with Bellamy. She pulled her legs up so that they were wrapped around his waist, groaning with parted lips as she felt his cock, heavy and thick, brush against her inner thigh. She shifted desperately trying to bring him in close.

Bellamy's mouth ripped away from hers and began kissing down her neck. She moaned as he alternated between leaving feather light kisses and rough biting scrapes on the skin of her clavicle. He leaned down and gently pressed another kiss against her heart.

"Babe," he mumbled against her skin. She shivered against him. Her fingers dug into his muscular back.

"Yeah?" She breathed.

"Lean back."

Clarke frowned at his demand and leaned her head back so she could look at his face. She analyzed the serious look on his face. She wanted to argue but didn't. She leaned back a little. Her heart raced as she felt her bare skin brush against a slick rock shelf.

"You trust me right?" He asked her. Clarke nodded her head without hesitation. Bellamy smiled victoriously.

Bellamy leaned towards her, letting his lips brush the shell of her ear.

"Good. Very good. I'm going to make you feel good, baby." Clarke nearly mocked him on the repetitive usage of the word "good" but was caught in a full body shiver as she felt his warm breath follow the crook of her neck. "I'm going to blow your mind. I'm going to put you up on that ledge and spread you right open so that I can see that pretty little pussy of yours and then I'm going to make you see stars."

Clarke was practically panting at that point. Each word was a verbal assault on her senses. Her stomach clenched as his fingers brushed against her exposed core. She wanted him to push his fingers inside her, but they retracted away from her as quickly as they had shown up.

"Do you want that?"

Clarke nodded her head silently. Bellamy slowly moved his hands back to her hips. He moved her again until she could feel the rock shelf pressing firmly against her rear. She pulled back and stared at him wordlessly as he helped lift her on to smooth and slightly out of the water. The warm liquid covered the bottom of her thighs but left the tops of her legs and her sex exposed.

The water on her hair dripped off of her sodden curls onto her chest. She was so sensitive and ready that each pattering, trickling drop felt like a heavy weight.

Bellamy smirked and stepped on to his own rock shelf. She admired the way the sun caught his chest. His warm, brown skin was lit with glittering drops that made him gleam. He was perfect. In every way, he exceeded her imagination. The way his muscles were tensed and taut called to her.

"I had a dream about this place." Clarke's eyes snapped towards his as he spoke. "When I found this spot, I felt at home. It felt peaceful, and I wanted to stay. But Kane found me, and told me to get back to camp, that I had responsibilities, etcetera, but I still couldn't forget. The night after I left, I had this vivid dream about us, about you."

"What about?"

"About this."

Clarke's mouth turned up into a smirk.

"This is what you dreamt about?" She waved her hands in front of her body as if to emphasize exactly what she meant.

"Yes."

"Blake, are you admitting that you were having dirty dreams about me?" She laughed lightly at the thought. Bellamy wasn't smiling any longer. His eyes were dark and hooded with lust. He nodded his head and took a step forward. She noticed that the place where he stood was so much lower than hers. He was able to stand up and still be partially in the water. She could feel his thighs brush her legs. He was almost able to line up his lower body with hers- a detail that she couldn't ignore.

"I've had so many dirty dreams about you, Princess. I've dreamt about kissing you, about touching you, about loving you and fucking you. I've dreamt about being in control of your body. I've thought about all the ways to make you cum. I've even dreamt of all the places that I wanted to be inside of you and exactly how I would make that happen. I've dreamt it all."

Clarke stared wide-eyed and silent. She didn't know what to say and was left floundering for words. Her body was aching over his words. She loved hearing that he thought about her, and she loved when he talked like that.

She wanted him to continue.

"What about here? What did you dream would happen?"

Bellamy smiled and leaned forward. One of his hands became ensnared in her hair. The other one brushed against her cheek before traveling down her body.

"I dreamt about bringing you here and having you sit down right where you are." His hand cupped her left breast while the other hand tugged on her curls causing her to look up. Clarke bit down on her lip as she felt each motion deep in her core. He thumb rubbed her sensitive nipple, and he leaned closer.

"I dreamt about kissing you everywhere?" He was a hairsbreadth away from her lips. Her eyes were locked onto his. She felt dizzy by his closeness.

"You should probably do that then," she whispered faintly.

Bellamy didn't need to be told twice and launched forwards toward her face. His lips were fire and ice, shocking her and sending her into action. She slid closer to him until her hips were nestled against his, her arms were reaching around his neck, pulling at him, grasping until she felt him as close as possible.

She could feel his cock nestled against her again. It sent a thrilling desperation in her. She wanted him inside her now. She arched her back against him and shifted her hips until she was grinding against him.

Bellamy groaned roughly, sending a coursing pleasure through her. She bit down on his lip and tried to rise up and align their bodies. Bellamy suddenly pushed back. Clarke was going to complain, but lost the will when his mouth suddenly closed around her pebbled nipple and his fingers were sliding through her hot, wet sex. She arched against his hand and felt instant satisfaction as his fingers dipped inside her. First, one finger and then two. Clarke's hands tangled themselves into Bellamy's curly hair as if that would help her keep sane.

A strangled moaned escaped her as she felt his fingers begin to quickly fuck her into oblivion. He wasn't slow or careful. It was rough and delicious and exactly what she needed. She spread her legs wider and met each thrust of his fingers with raised hips and shifting, grinding movements.

Bellamy seemed to be able to multitask much better than she could at that moment. While is left hand was causing the coil in her stomach to tighten, his mouth was lavishing her breasts with attention and his other hand was putting pressure on the soft flesh of her hip, holding her body to his.

With one final nip against her aching breast, Bellamy began kissing down her stomach, licking away the warm drops of water. Clarke could barely take a breath. She reached to grab Bellamy's hair, but he wouldn't let her. He carefully leaned away before using his hand to gentle push on her stomach. He was trying to get her to lean back and rest completely on her back, but Clarke wanted to watch his every move. Her stubbornness made a reappearance and she quickly thrusted her hips up in rebellion.

When Bellamy felt Clarke's resistance, he removed his fingers from inside of her as punishment. A mourning keen escaped her lips as the coil loosened and her impending orgasm began to recede slightly. He leaned forward and used both of his hands to press on her shoulders making her fall back against the rock. She huffed in annoyance as the water underneath her gave way to her body and splashed up covering her shoulders, neck, and hair. A few scattered droplets fell on her face.

Clarke's frustration was quickly squelched as soon as Bellamy pulled her forward so that her legs were resting on the edge of the stone, drifting into the deeper part of the lake.

She felt his mouth on her stomach, and then on her hip, and finally, when she felt his breath right over her core, she knew what happened in the next part of his dream.

When his tongue drug over her, a breathy curse escaped from her mouth. Bellamy leaned back and murmured, "Fuck, you taste so good," against the inside of her thigh.

Clarke opened her mouth to reply but was stopped when his tongue returned to her. He slowly dragged his tongue back and forth, before finding her clit. He spent a moment working the swollen nub before sucking the sensitive nerve bundle into his mouth. Clarke's hips bucked up involuntarily, and the coil inside her that signaled her release constricted even tighter. She moaned and cursed again.

Bellamy used the palm of his hand to try and steady her. He freed the small bundle of nerves from his suctioning mouth. His tongue began to make a swirling motion around her clit before moving back towards her entrance. She moaned again.

"Please, please, please," she begged using her hands to push him closer. He chuckled a bit sending a pulsing pleasure through her.

She felt his tongue moving, caressing, and stroking every place imaginable and unimaginable. Clarke choked on a moan as his tongue moved to her clit and two fingers replaced his tongue inside her. He curled his fingers up and sucked firmly on her clit.

The coil inside of her ruptured. Her muscles clamped down on his fingers. An inhuman scream broke through her mouth as the pleasure coursed through her body like a raging wildfire.

Clarke's limbs felt light and airy despite the fact that the rest of her body felt like a heavy weight was pushing her down.

Somewhere in the back of her brain, she could feel Bellamy's tongue trace her thigh before continuing a trail of gentle kisses up her stomach. She giggled and tried to wiggle away despite the exhaustion that she felt.

When Bellamy's face was near hers, she pressed her lips to his. She could feel her own arousal covering his lips and could taste the sweet tang of it on her mouth.

"Thank you," she said, sweetly. "Was that all of your dream?"

Bellamy chuckled a little and shook his head no. Clarke's smile grew on her face. Even though she had recently orgasmed, she could feel the ache inside her begin to grow at the sexy look that he was giving her.

"Are you going to show me the rest of your dream?"

Bellamy looked at her with a twinkle in his eye.

"I don't know if you could handle the rest of my dream." Clarke's eyes narrowed at the obvious challenge. She knew he was joking, but part of her- the part that was really stubborn- took his dare very seriously.

"Why don't you show me and let me decide on what I can handle?" She used both hands to pull him on to her. The previous tiredness was gone and in its place was a fierce determination to prove Bellamy wrong.

Bellamy kissed her with all the fierceness that she felt. His tongue battled with hers, desperate and fevered.

He broke the kiss, placing his lips on the hollow of her throat.

"You need to turn over then, baby," he whispered against her skin.

Clarke tore away and stared at him with a look of confusion and lust.

"What?" She said, stupidly. Bellamy put his hands on her hips and gave a little squeeze.

"Turn over." His voice was rough and deeper than he had ever sounded before. Clarke's mouth felt drier than a desert. There was a raw edge in his voice that rubbed her raw.

Feeling very exposed, Clarke slowly turned around. She felt Bellamy's hand on her shoulder. He pushed her forward until her hands and knees were bracing her body. She bit down on her lip and looked over her shoulder, trying to figure out what Bellamy was going to do.

Bellamy's rough voice instantly demanded that she turn around. Her head snapped forward. Instead of looking at the beautiful man behind her, she was staring at a large, dark green leaf that lightly fluttered in the wind. Small, dewy drops created glittering diamonds that covered the leaf. Clarke's eyes trailed over the snake-like tendrils that grew out of the stone wall as she tried to ignore the feelings growing in her as she waited for Bellamy to make the first move.

She felt vulnerable, but there was a very confusing part of her that liked the feeling; liked the unsureness of what was happening.

She jumped when she felt Bellamy's large, calloused hand gently stroke the small of her back, before drifting over her rear. As he followed the swell downwards, he gave each cheek a little squeeze.

Clarke turned again when she felt his fingers near her exposed sex.

"Turn around!" Bellamy commanded in a loud, domineering voice.

Clarke squeaked a little as she felt his hand land on her round bottom with a firm smack. She instantly complied as the slap seemed to have sent a burst of pleasure through her body that brought goosebumps onto her skin.

"This is better than in my dream," Bellamy murmured. Clarke shivered as she felt his fingers trail up her spine. He stepped forward until his thighs skimmed against hers.

Clarke's stomach clenched with anticipation as she felt the tip of his manhood brush against her wet sex. He pivoted forward and backward, rubbing the thick, swollen head of his cock over her slit until she was pleading for more.

"Do you really want this?" He asked in a seductive whisper. Clarke shivered again as his voice seemed to lavish over her soul. She began to turn her head towards him to see what he was doing, but the hand that had been gently caressing her back immediately tangled itself into her the base of her hair, rendering her motionless.

"I want you inside me," she moaned. She pushed her body against his and groaned as she felt just the tip of his hard, solid, smooth head slide inside her a little. The hand in her hair tugged a little harder. Clarke could feel that tug in her core.

"This isn't going to be slow or careful," Bellamy growled. Clarke opened her mouth to respond but nearly choked on her words as Bellamy slid inside her with one sharp thrust. She groaned at the feeling of fullness. He had never felt this deep inside her.

Before she could catch her breath, Bellamy was pulling out again. He thrust back in just as quickly over and over again. Her body rocked with the movements, and the slapping of skin on skin was quickly driving her into a stupor as she focused on just the feelings that were taking over.

Bellamy's hand clutched at her hip, dragging her body backward. He leaned down and swept her curls off of her neck, pressing his lips against her slightly sweaty body. A breathy gasp escaped her mouth, and her core muscles spasmed around Bellamy.

She felt the fire in her build into a frenzy of heat as he softly groaned into her shoulder. His breath traveled down her neck as the words flew out of his mouth.

"God, I love you. I love how you feel," He mumbled. Clarke was barely able to hang on to the ground let alone hold a conversation. The palms of her hands and her fingertips had to scrape against the smooth surface to keep from sliding forward. With each thrust she clung harder and harder.

Clarke gasped as Bellamy's grip on her hair tightened again making her arch up against him. His next thrust hit something inside her that made her feel fireworks burst inside her.

Bellamy must have heard her reaction, because every single time that he thrusted into her, stretching her, filling her, he hit that exact same spot. Over and over again, she felt like her soul was burning like an eternal ember.

She could feel her body teetering. She needed something.

"More," Clarke breathily demanded. "I need more."

Bellamy hesitated before driving his hips forward with the force of a bull. He was the jackhammer, and she was the concrete, and he was determined to break through her.

She cried out in pure pleasure as she felt his fast, deep thrusts set her orgasm into motion. Her body clenched down on his cock, squeezing him for everything that he was worth. Aftershock after aftershock racked through her body, leaving her an uncontrollable mess of twitching muscles and shaking limps.

When she thought, she coming back down, Bellamy leaned forward and curled his arm underneath her. His fingers searched for the apex of her legs. His fingers slid over her heated, sensitive flesh and found her clit. He began working the bundle of nerves as if it was the last thing he was ever going to do.

Clarke nearly sobbed as he worked her up again. She begged him to stop. Each touch wasn't a shock- it was a lightning bolt, and she was too sensitive to be able to handle it.

Bellamy ignored her and continued thrusting into her like a man on a mission. Clarke wasn't climbing a metaphorical mountain, she was being shot off it by a rocket.

Her arms shook with the pressure as she felt her body begin to fracture into pieces. Her insides were beginning to shake and quiver again. Bellamy leaned forward so that his weight was resting on hers, his cock was plunging in and out of her, and his other hand was moving until it was cupping her swaying breasts.

Clarke moaned loudly and lowly as she felt Bellamy pinch her clit, thrust harder than she thought possible, and felt his cock throb inside of her.

"Cum, Clarke!" Bellamy demanded in a harsh, deep, raspy tone.

Those two words sent Clarke off the deep end. She shattered underneath him, screaming in delicious release.

The orgasm that she felt was different than before. It was blinding and redeeming, cleansing her and leaving her drained. Her body slumped forward in the water, completely limp and spent.

She didn't realize that Bellamy was nearly lying on top of her until several minutes had passed and she was gaining more of an awareness. She could feel his fingers softly brushing over the curve of her hip. His lips were gently pressing against her shoulder blade.

She listened to him whispering words of encouragement and affection until she felt like she could actual move. When she could, she gently nudged him until he understood what she wanted and rolled off of her.

Clarke lazily turned over to her side so that she was facing Bellamy. She entwined her legs with his and tucked her arm under her head so that she could just watch Bellamy. He was smiling at her. The warmth on his face was a beacon of light that nearly blinded her.

The corners of her mouth turned up as he took in the shy, gentleness in her face.

"Are you okay?" Bellamy finally asked her. Clarke nodded her head.

"More than okay," she mumbled. She leaned forward until she was cuddling against her chest. Bellamy chuckled lazily and threw his arm around her.

After that, Clarke and Bellamy didn't speak again. They just enjoyed the complete silence of the little alcove. After an hour of being indolent and doing nothing, Clarke began to get the nagging sense that they should start heading back.

She slowly detangled herself from Bellamy, ignoring his groans of disapproval. Bellamy grumbled at her as she slowly slid back into the water, but despite the fact that he wanted to stay, he followed her, helping her swim through the deeper water.

When they reached the shoreline near their clothes and had to stand up, Clarke nearly stumbled back into the water. Her legs felt like jelly after the brutal and totally wonderful fucking that she had endured. Bellamy caught her.

"Are you sure you are okay?" He asked. The worry on his face brought a soft smile to her face. Having someone care about her wasn't something that she was used to.

It felt good.

"I swear I'm fine. Let's just get dressed and get back to camp. I'm feeling a little tired."

"Just a little?"

"Do you really want clarification?" Clarke rolled her eyes and began to walk over to her clothes.

Bellamy followed her over and picked up his boxers.

"I'm just making sure that you can make it home." Clarke paused while she was sliding on her shirt. She frowned a little. For some reason, the word "home" didn't sit right with her. Camp Jaha was not her home, but Bellamy thought it was. Clarke shook herself out of her thoughts.

"I can make it to our tent, then I am going to sleep."

Bellamy opened his mouth to reply when a spine-chilling scream cut through the quiet. Bellamy looked around wildly, trying to figure out the direction of the shriek. Clarke hurriedly threw on her boots and tied the laces on them while Bellamy kept watch.

The screams weren't getting quieter, they were coming towards the lake. Bellamy's eyes were scanning the tree line. She could see that he was trying to assess the threat. Clarke reached and grabbed his hand and tugged hard.

Bellamy looked at her with a hard look and nodded his head.

They turned and ran.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Please feel free to leave a review!**


	25. Chapter 25-Wounded

**A/N: Enjoy Everyone!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the 100. The story is rated M for adult themes and will feature spoilers.**

I Found by Amber Run

And I'll use you as a warning sign  
That if you talk enough sense, then you'll lose your mind  
And I'll use you as focal point  
So I don't lose sight of what I want  
And I've moved further than I thought I could  
But I miss you more than I thought I would  
Oh I'll use you as a warning sign  
That if you talk enough sense, then you'll lose your mind

And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be  
Right in front of me, talk some sense to me

Resolutions- Chapter 24- Wounded

Clarke's feet pounded against the ground. Branches snapped under her as she crashed through the forest with each step. Her heart raced wildly in her chest as she pushed to run faster.

Bellamy was right on her heels. She could practically feel the heat of his body press against her. Instead of finding comfort in his nearness like she normally would, his presence amplified the panic she felt. Each panting exhale from him was a warm and frightening reminder on her neck that they were in immediate danger from something that they couldn't see. They couldn't stop, couldn't plan.

They were helpless and defenseless.

Clarke could only focus on the path in front of her. Her vision narrowed as she ducked under low-hanging branches and jumped over fallen tree trunks. After a few minutes, Clarke was beginning to feel like they had outrun the thing that was chasing them.

She was about to suggest to Bellamy that they stop, but the loud, piercing screech of a wild animal sent her feet careening forward. She felt Bellamy's hands grappling at her hips, trying to steady her, but her shoes managed to catch the small knobby wood of a borrowing root.

Bellamy wasn't able to stop her, and his momentum caused him to fly forward and slam into her body. Her legs became tangled with his, and they both crashed down onto the floor in a tangled mess. The air whooshed out of her chest as she felt her body smack the ground.

"Bell," she groaned. She rolled to her side, trying to ignore the way her breath painfully wheezed out of her body.

Bellamy was already trying to stumble to his feet. He reached out and clumsily grabbed her shirt and forearm and began heaving her to her feet. Clarke scrambled up. She clung to Bellamy's hand and started to move forward again.

"Stop, Clarke!" Bellamy called. Clarke could hear the twinge of discomfort in his voice. Her head whipped around. "I can't run."

"Why?"

"Ankle. You need to go. I need you to run back to camp." Clarke began shaking her head. "I'm serious, Clarke. My ankle is twisted. I won't be able to keep up, and something is hunting us."

"Then we face it together."

"No," Bellamy half-shouted, half whispered in reply. Clarke flinched back and shook her head more vehemently.

"You said we had to work together. I'm not leaving you again. Ever!"

Bellamy limped forward a step. He placed his hands on her face so that they were cupping her soft, rounded cheeks. He forced her to look him in the eye.

"This is different, Clarke."

"It isn-,"

"Stop! You need to go now. I am not letting you get hurt."

"No," Clarke whispered stubbornly. The agitation on Bellamy's face was building. The slim time frame for escape was getting smaller.

"I can't focus on keeping me alive if I am worried about you, Clarke."

"If you die, I die. So make the choice. You either need to ignore the pain and try and run with me, or we face that thing head on."

She looked at Bellamy so fiercely that he knew that he was going to lose the argument.

"Fine, but you run ahead of me, and if we are close to the camp, you run towards it and get help for me."

Clarke opened her mouth to argue but snapped it shut with an audible click and nodded her head. She watched him take a small step and knew that they were in trouble.

"Go, Clarke."

Clarke turned and began to run. Her steps were loud, but Bellamy's were much louder. He was trying to keep pace to stay alive and keep her alive, but in reality, she knew that he was drawing the beast towards them with greater accuracy. Clarke blocked out the noises and focused on drawing air into her burning lungs

Clarke ran for a few more minutes without hesitation. She recognized some of the landscape. They were a few minutes from camp. Relief burst in her chest.

She turned around rapidly searching for Bellamy to tell him the good news. She was greeted with the stillness of the forest. Clarke's heart stuttered painfully as she darted back a few steps and sought after Bellamy.

She couldn't hear or see anything.

"Fuck!" She screamed. She broke into a sprint, retracing her steps. Panic welled up inside her.

Where the hell was he?

She thought he was right behind her. She needed to calm down. Clarke's feet slowed down. She closed her eyes and listened to the surrounding noises. She was just about to give up hope when she heard the pained grunt of someone.

She knew it was Bellamy.

Clarke followed the sound at a breakneck speed until she was crashing through foliage into a small wooded ravine. Her heart dropped as she looked in front of her to see a large man covered in blood and dirt and other vile materials cornering Bellamy. The man's brutishly large forearm was wrapped around his neck.

"Bellamy!" she screamed again.

His brown eyes met hers.

Clarke's heart dropped as she analyzed that one look. It was a look of fear and helplessness. It was a look that she recognized in his but hadn't seen in a long time. It was the look he gave her after Dax had attacked him and he had confessed his sins to her.

Clarke hesitated as she tried to figure a way to help him. She had no weapons and knew that she wouldn't be able to use her own strength to bring the man down.

No, not a man; he was a Reaper, she realized. The blood stained eyes and crazed motions showed her exactly what he was.

A choked gasp sent her running at the man without a plan.

There was no time for plans. As she ran, she scooped down and picked up a long, thick, straight branch. Instead of swinging that stick at his head, Clarke used her speed to leap on the man's back. She threw the stick across the Reaper's neck and beginning pulling back with all her strength. If she could get him off balance, both she and Bellamy could finish the job.

Her distraction worked, and she watched with relief as Bellamy fell to the ground untouched. He clutched at his throat and coughed before stumbling to his feet.

Her relief was short-lived as the Reaper began to claw at her hands wrapped around the stick. She cried out as his jagged, blood stained fingernails drew blood on the backs of her hand. She refused to let go though and held on tighter, using jerking movements to throw the Reaper off balance.

The Reaper stumbled backward a few steps, nearly falling to his knees. He gained his footing again and began to take purposeful strides backs.

Both Clarke and the Reaper flew into a tree. Clarke felt as if her body was being slammed by a truck. The force of his body on hers and the sharp angle of the knolled tree sent the air rushing out of her.

Clarke's grip weakened on the branch. The Reaper took advantage of her surprise and used his beefy arm to swing her around and throw her body to the ground. She hit the ground with a huge thump. Her head hit the flat, hard surface of a rock. Darkness and bursts of light clouded her vision, and a quiet groan escaped her mouth as she tried to reassemble her thoughts.

A loud roar of rage flowed into her ears causing her to cringe to the side. Clarke rubbed her hands over her eyes, clearing the specks of stars. As her vision cleared, she rolled onto her side and slowly pushed her way into a sitting position.

She turned around looking for the fight, but all she saw was a beaten, bruised, and bloodied Bellamy standing over the fallen Reaper. A large stone was clutched in his hand and a look of pure shock on his face.

Clarke stumbled to her feet, ignoring the wave of dizziness and nausea, and reached for Bellamy. Her hand grazed his hand. Bellamy flinched back from the touch.

"Bel," she asked softly. Her hand reached again for the hand that held the heavy rock. She wrapped her hand softly against his.

"Is he dead?" Bellamy muttered in a gritted voice. Clarke stared down at the body and noticed the deep rise and fall of his chest even from where she was.

"No," she whispered.

The stone dropped out of his hand, and Clarke saw his shoulders descend in relief.

"What happened?"

"He cut me off. I didn't expect him." Clarke looked down at the body curiously. She looked again at Bellamy's shell-shocked expression. Dropping his hand, she knelt next to the body. She reached out and hesitated. Her fingers were a hairsbreadth away from the man. She steeled the anxiety building in her chest and gently pushed the man's shoulder until he rolled onto his side.

Clarke's heart skipped a beat as she looked at the man's face.

Her eyes shot to Bellamy then back to the man.

"Lincoln."

* * *

**A/N: Very short chapter. Please review. I would love to hear your feedback!**


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